


Coach Wolf

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bobby the mediator, Bobby's pushy because he cares, Canon-Typical Violence, Coach gets bit, Gen, I include food a lot, Season 1 Universe Altered, Too nosey for his own good Stiles, and the ones who should die do, but who knows, food discussed, hale pack feels, helpful sheriff, learning to werewolf, started as crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: So Season 1 with a new view if Coach got bit.I don't know, it started with a quick conversation with Discontented Winter and this came out. *shrugs*





	1. Bobby Gets the Bite

It starts with a shudder.

The engine coughs and Bobby gives it a little more gas. Then there’s a definite snort and the car lurches and he tries to pull it to the side of the road before it completely dies.

“Aw, come on, Barbie, not now!” Bobby cries. He pats the dashboard and whispers, “I know you can do it, come on, girl! Daddy loves you.”

He turns the key and listens to the engine grind weakly and then – nothing.

He sighs once and then again before he pulls out his phone and punches in a number on his contact list. “Darrell?” he says when the call’s answered. “It’s Bobby, how’re you doing?”

There’s dead silence and then, “Bobby. Should I ask why you’re calling? When you call, it’s never good.”

Bobby puts his phone on speaker and rests it on his knee. “Well, let’s say I have an opportunity for you. For you and your class. How would your kids like to do a little work on a classic car?”

Darrell snorts and it’s loud over the speaker. “Your 2003 Chevy Malibu isn’t a classic car, it’s a piece of shit. Why don’t you just break down and buy a car that runs for more than a month at a time?”

“Oh, hey, that’s a great idea. I’m right by the preserve, and I think there’s a money tree in there. I can just waltz in and pick some money up from the ground, since it’s fall and the dollar bills are just dropping.” He stops and takes a breath to calm down; it won’t do any good to lash out at Darrell and after all, he’s an underpaid teacher, too. “I would love to get a new car, Darrell, and if my ex is ever good enough to die or remarry, it’s on the list.”

There’s a chuckle from the phone and Bobby can’t believe how relieved he is. “Okay, but I swear to you, this is the last time, Bobby. I think my classes are starting to think that yours is the only car they’re going to be able to work on. I’d like to give them some variety and maybe a car that’s been built in the last decade. So where’d you break down?”

“Appreciate it and hope it won’t be too bad for you,” Bobby says as he puts the keys into his pocket. “I’m on Pine Tree Road, about three miles east of Lake Road. You still have a copy of the keys from last time?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have kept them, but I do. I’ll have it picked up in the morning.”

“You know if you could get it back to me by tomorrow night, that would be terrific,” Bobby says, smiling at what he knows Darrell will say.

“You ass! You think I can have your shit mobile fixed in one day? I don’t even know what’s wrong with it and…”

“That would be great,” Bobby interrupts. “Just see what your little elves can do, okay? And I’ll leave a bottle of Jack in your desk drawer.”

“Yeah, well you better.” He pauses and says, “So you’re by the preserve? Do you need a ride?”

“I was going to cut through and walk home, but sure!”

“So call an Uber,” Darrell suggests and laughs at his own joke. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the factory.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular stand-up comic,” Bobby says, and then mutters his good bye and hangs up.

“Okay, time to hike.”

 

The preserve is big, although it’s not unreasonably big and Bobby’s walked through it before. Usually during the day, but come on, he’s an adult and this isn’t a big deal.

He’s been walking for about twenty minutes when he hears what sounds like a stampede. He stands behind two trees and watches a herd of deer (are deers herds?) run by, clearly in a panic as they stumble and step on each other.

“That’s frigging weird,” he mutters and waits a minute until he’s sure they’re all past. He huffs out a sigh and goes back to walking, looking at how everything’s been trampled, with some plants completely pulled out of the ground. He’s focused on his walk and not tripping over anything and that’s probably why he doesn’t hear the growl following him until whatever it is, is right behind him. He has enough time to look over his shoulder and then he’s pushed to the ground, face down into the dirt.

“Shit shit shit.” At least the thing on him hasn’t ripped his head off. Yet. It seems to be sniffing at his neck and Bobby can see just enough to know that it’s large and it’s black and it has fangs, really big fangs. He can also see a paw next to his face and its claws look enormous.

He stays still, trying not to move, trying not to breathe as the thing sniffs at him and licks up his neck, making Bobby think that he’s having a pre-dinner taste. But after what seems like an eternity, it backs off him and Bobby carefully turns over, thinking it might be easier to back away than crawl away on his belly.

“Good, big monster,” he croons, “nice big scary monster with really big teeth. What the fuck are you?”

The creature looks at him and cocks its head and Bobby swears it smiles just before it steps over him again and takes a bite out of his side.

“Fucking fucker!” Bobby yells and when the monster moves back, jaws dripping with Bobby’s blood, he pulls up his leg and kicks it solidly in the face.

The monster does not like this.

It jumps on him again, snarling, with its teeth inches from Bobby’s face.

Bobby thinks of the things he hasn’t finished and thinks it was a good idea that he phoned his mother over the weekend. Because he’s pretty sure he’s going to die, another Beacon Hills resident who somehow dies too soon. Fucking Beacon Hills.

He doesn’t remember actually dying, but there’s a bright light behind the beast, and at least he gets the express elevator to heaven.  And then a voice, an angel’s voice calls out, “I’m not seeing anything, bring the light over here, Tara?”

The creature looks at him and snarls one more time before it bounds off into the woods, away from the voices and the lights and the wonderful sounds of civilization.

“Okay, you’re okay. Holy crap, you’re not dead,” he says, and puts his hand to his side where it’s still bleeding. “Fuck that hurts.” Bobby stops and gets his breath, listening as the sounds get closer to him and through the trees he can see several people and bless them, they’re in Sherriff’s uniforms.

Something in his head tells him to take off his sweatshirt and tie it around his waist. It’s both to stop the bleeding and to hide his torn, bloodied clothes. He’s sure he doesn’t look great, but he’s been wandering in the preserve and maybe that’s to be expected.

“Hey, little help here?” he calls out, taking a few steps out from behind the trees.

Instantly, there’s several spot lights on him and through the glare, he can see a half-dozen officers, several with guns pointed towards him.

A woman puts her light down a little, and puts her gun back in its holster before she says, “Coach Finstock? What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, my car broke down and I was going to walk home, you know through here and to the main street?” he says, scratching his head, and hoping he’s not smearing blood everywhere. “Think I tripped a little, pulled a muscle or something.”

“Yeah, you look kinda ragged,” she says, smiling and Bobby thinks it’s beautiful. “How about we get you a ride home?”

“That would be great, thanks, Deputy.” He pushes himself off the tree, making sure he’s feeling steady. At least he didn’t puke or piss himself with the giant monster thingy on top of him, so that’s a win. “What’s going on out here? I’m assuming you’re not my search party.”

The deputies look at each other and the Sheriff and he says, “It’s not a good night to be out here, Mr. Finstock. There was a body found out here a couple of days ago and we’re doing some additional investigation.”

“At night? Is that… that doesn’t seem helpful or safe,” Bobby says, thinking he should know. The thing that bit him didn’t look like it had a lot of fear or respect for guns.

The Sheriff nods in that not-telling-you-anything way and says, “We have to do what we have to do, you know. Tara, why don’t you get him home?” The man takes a few long moments to look at Bobby again and says, “You okay? You look a bit – you look kind of shook up. Anything happen out here?”

Bobby scoffs and says, “No, just got a little turned around and frankly, you all frightened me a bit. Just need to get home. Thanks for the ride and good luck with your search.”

He holds himself still in the car, glad that Tara’s not feeling talkative either. Between school, the car breaking down and oh, yeah, being attacked by some type of hungry creature, he’s feeling kind of beat.

In the house, he figures he’ll clean up and bandage himself up, as long as he doesn’t have any actual chunks of flesh missing. If he needs to, he’ll go to the hospital in the morning; after all, he doesn’t have a car and frankly, he’s exhausted. Rabies doesn’t set in overnight, as far as he knows.

There’s bruises and scratches on his hands and knees and while a shower might help with the soreness, right now, he’s just washing up in the sink, ready for a handful of Tylenol. “Let’s see the damage,” he says, and looks at the bite on his side, which is giant, like he got attacked by a bear or a land shark.

In spite of his exhaustion, he has trouble sleeping. Everything kind of hurts, muscles sore and his scraped palms and knees both burn. He must fall asleep at some point, because when he gets up, he finds it’s really bright out. He has a little more time than usual before he needs to get dressed for school, so he puts some coffee on for a cup. And toast. And maybe make it a sandwich; he’s pretty hungry, even though it’s early. Turning on the local news, there’s nothing about any bodies found in the preserve and certainly nothing about any animal attacks.

“Yuck, milk’s going sour,” he mutters, checking the date, which is still a few days off. Maybe he left it out sometime. After the weather report he goes upstairs for a shower and to get dressed. “Hmm, Tylenol must kick ass,” he says, noting how his palms look completely healed. He tries bending a knee and it feels fine, too. “Side doesn’t feel too bad,” he says and pulls off his sleep shirt, turning to the mirror. There’s still indents in his skin, clearly showing the bite mark, but that’s it. Nothing red, nothing swollen. It looks like a bite that happened a week or more ago. 

He studies it for another minute and leans closer, looking at himself in the mirror and thinking back to the night before. “God damn Beacon Hills! I got bitten by a damn werewolf.”

 


	2. Bobby Starts Adjusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby goes to work and it's even more disgusting than usual. And he finds an unhappy mentor.

Okay, he’s in a bad mood, he got attacked last night and now he’s probably going to turn into a werewolf, because his luck sucks.

Bobby gets to his first class and everyone annoys him, not that it’s that unusual. But everything seems really bright and loud and there’s so much noise in the room that in between his first and second class, he jumps up to knock the clock off of the wall. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting to reach it, but that’s not bad.

Not to mention that everyone smells. The teachers he works with smell like coffee and toothpaste and mouthwash-covering-alcohol and too much cologne and someone should have washed that shirt and not assumed they could wear it twice.

The students aren’t worse, they’re just as bad though. There’s a fair amount of B.O.; teenage boys can work through deodorant before third hour. There’s a lot of cologne here, too, and they’re teenagers and it’s cheap. The girl’s all have flowery perfume and stuff in their hair and he swears he can smell their make-up. And suddenly he knows if it’s their time of month, which is extremely unsettling.

What is the worst is the locker room. It’s horrible and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to work here again. Sweat and hormones and blood and mildew and he swears he can smell anger and jealousy, which he never thought were actual scents, but with a team full of teenage boys, it positively reeks. Everything all day has been overlaid by hormones.

Okay, he needs to figure out what’s going on. If he was bitten by a werewolf, which Occam’s razor please -- he got bit by something in the woods and now he has weird powers. Freaky things happen with his eyes, too; they get this weird yellow glow that nearly made him drop his coffee in the school bathroom the first time he saw them.  

So he’s going to go back to the so-called scene of the crime. He’ll go back to the preserve and maybe he’ll see the monster thing or maybe he’ll find some kind of clue as to what to do next.

He gets there and walks around a bit, tracing the path back to where he was, looking at the torn up earth where the deer had their stampede.

“This is private property.”

Bobby looks up at the voice and in front of him is a young man. Dark haired, handsome and angry, he makes Bobby think of a kid trying to look tough wearing his father’s jacket, with the sleeves hanging over his hands. Bobby studies him for a minute, thinking he looks familiar.  “No it’s not,” he answers. “It’s the preserve --  it’s public property. It’s on the city map. It has a Wikipedia page.” He scrubs his hand through his hair, making it stick up even more. “So who are you and why are you here? Do you know about…”

“Know about what?” the man asks, taking a step forward towards Bobby, which is probably meant to be threatening.

“First of all, who the hell are you? Why are you roaming around the preserve?” He looks at the man again, thinking back to the school and trying to remember his face. “I know you. You’re… you played basketball, you didn’t want to play lacrosse.  You’re…”

“Derek Hale,” he says finally, looking like he wants nothing more than to gut Bobby. Which, no, not today.

“Derek Hale, yeah I remember you, you left after your…” Bobby stops and has another weird idea that he can smell the man’s emotions: sorrow, guilt, anger. And that he doesn’t smell quite like the other people he’s been around today. “I’m sorry about that. So why are you here now? Do you know about the thing that’s out here?”

“The thing?” Derek asks and takes another step closer to Bobby and visibly takes a sniff. “What happened to you?”

“Oh fuck, I was right, I was bitten by a fucking werewolf, wasn’t I? Dammit.” He gives Derek the most effective stink-eye he can manage and asks, “Did you do it? Were you the thing running around here last night?”

Derek shakes his head, studying Bobby. “No, no I wasn’t. That would be the alpha, he’s the one who can bite and turn someone into a new wolf. He’s the one who turned you and he’ll be looking for you now.”

“Terrific,” Bobby says, throwing his hands in the air. “Frankly, I’m not looking forward to seeing him again. And today was pretty much a giant suck-fest, so no, not looking forward to this at all.”

“I know it’s surprising and he – whoever it is – should have asked you. But the bite is a gift; we’re brothers now.”

Bobby can’t help but let out a snort. “Yeah, okay. I have a brother who lives in Toledo and I really don’t like him, so I don’t need another. But anyway, it figures you’d be a werewolf.”

“What do you mean it figures?” Derek asks, and Bobby sees his eyes flash blue. Bobby’s are yellow, that’s something else to ask about.

He shrugs, “Well it’s not much of a secret is it? Your family all lived out here in the woods and I know one of your sisters growled at people, and I swear I heard people calling your mother alpha – that’s a wolf thing, isn’t it? Like head wolf? Was she the alpha?”

“Yes, she was, until she was killed. She was murdered by werewolf hunters. And then my sister became the alpha and she was killed by the wolf who bit you. He killed my sister to take her power and now he’s the alpha and he’s going around biting people. He’s dangerous. He’s dangerous to all of us,” Derek says, and his fangs grow to fill his mouth.

“Great. This just keeps getting better. So how do we find this dangerous alpha?”

Derek shakes his head and his teeth recede. “He’ll find you. He bit you, you’re his beta and he wants you in his pack. The full moon is coming up at the end of the week. You’re a new wolf and you won’t have control. You’re a danger to everyone.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” Bobby sighs and checks his watch. “Look, I’m going to have to get back to school for a class this afternoon, but I have about three hours now. Teach me control or whatever.”

“Three hours?” Derek snorts. “I can’t teach you anything in three hours!”

“Well then you must not be a very good teacher. I have a job and have to get back to it. And I have about 60 essays to grade and a lesson plan to finish for next week, along with reviewing last week’s lacrosse game tapes, so it’s not like I have a lot of free time. Okay, what _can_ you do in three hours?”

Derek shakes his head and grumbles, but he tells Bobby as much as he can. He helps him shift into his beta form, tells him about anchors, hunters, healing and his new strength.

“This is all interesting, and I’m sure there’s more to learn, but honestly, I have senior economics that I have to get to. We can meet again?”

Derek snarls and says, “Yes! We need to! The alpha will call for you tonight and you’ll be compelled to go to him. If you don’t do what he wants, he _will_ kill you.”

Bobby slumps and says, “I do not have time for this crap. We have semi-finals on Saturday.”

“And the full moon is Friday, so your game won’t be an issue if you’re dead. Today’s Tuesday, so we don’t have a lot of time to be sure you’re under control. Do you understand, Bobby?” Derek strides towards him, grabbing his arm to pull him towards him. “On Friday night, the moon will rise and you will want to kill people. With your claws and teeth. If the alpha doesn’t kill you first.”

“Derek, I want to kill people pretty much on a daily basis and I haven’t done it yet, so I think I’ll be fine,” Bobby answers, jerking his arm away. He’s pretty sure his eyes are glowing, but Derek’s quick lesson didn’t really teach him how not to make that happen. But at least now he knows when they are.

Derek just snorts, shaking his head, “It’s more than that, you don’t understand; you’ll have the strength to do it now.”

“Look, I need to get back to work, but we can do more training or whatever you call this tomorrow.” He looks at his watch again as he starts to back up and says, “Friday, you can come over to my house and babysit me and make sure I don’t eat the pizza delivery guy.”

“But…” Derek starts but Coach is already stomping away from the preserve.

 


	3. Bobby Meets Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek babysits Bobby, who is getting used to being a werewolf. Then they go to visit Peter. It goes about as well as you'd think.

The next night, Bobby waits until he can’t stand it any longer. Then he throws open the front door.  “Good god, man, are you just going to stay out there hiding in the shrubs?”

Derek steps of the shadows, glaring at the new werewolf.

“Get in here before someone calls the police,” Bobby demands, pulling Derek into the house and shutting the door after them.

Bobby’s house could be nicely described as homey. It’s a bit worn, he knows, but comfortable. The sofas are overstuffed, with a throw across the back in case he falls asleep there. There’s newspapers and sometimes he leaves glasses on the tables, but Bobby tries to straighten up regularly.  “Sorry, I know it’s a bit of a mess; the week kind of got away from me. Werewolf bite and all that.”

“It’s fine,” Derek answers, with a look that can only be described as wistful. “Reminds me of the old house.”

“Yeah, well, seriously, Derek, if you want to come in, just knock on the damn door,” Coach says and points to the couch, shoving a box of pizza towards him. “Eat something, I always order an extra-large so I have leftovers for breakfast. And we’re watching baseball. If you don’t like it, too damn bad.”

“You seem okay, you’re not feeling too anxious? I think this is your normal level of rude.” Derek takes a paper plate from the stack next to the pizza box, along with a couple of sheets of paper towel and helps himself to two pieces of pizza. Bobby ordered it with everything in the store on it, and it looks like that’s fine with Derek.

“Anxious? A little, I have a lot to do for the rest of the week, for classes, you know? But other than that, not really,” he says and burps quietly. “Sorry. There’s beer and stuff in the fridge. And I’ve had like three and there’s no buzz at all. Is that a wolf thing?”

“Yes, our systems metabolize alcohol too quickly to get drunk. Same with drugs, they don’t affect us or not for long.”

“Don’t do drugs, just say no. Like that ever worked,” Coach mutters. He’s reading papers from school, making occasional red marks on the paper and looking up at the TV as well, apparently trying to coach those players, too. “So you know, they don’t work if we’re hurt either. We have accelerated healing and can heal from most things, but while you’re waiting for the healing to kick in, drugs won’t help,” Derek tells him. He looks at the pizza box again, before setting his plate down.  

Bobby turns and studies him. “You did something? It’s almost like… like you smell puzzled or something. Smelling things like this is really weird.” He shakes his head at Derek and then the TV and looks back down, muttering, “Idiot children,” as he circles a paragraph on the paper. “Eat more if you want, there’s plenty.”

Derek takes another couple of slices and Bobby smiles to himself. There’s a scent that smells like contentment, something the other man doesn’t have very often. If pizza and a baseball game do it, Bobby can offer that.

 

After they’ve finished eating, they stay in, Derek apparently trying not to be too obvious that he’s watching Bobby. Bobby’s thinking about calling it a night, when they hear a wolf howl. Derek stands and looks at Bobby, trying to gauge his reaction. “That’s the alpha, he’s calling for you.”

Bobby does feel something, an itch or tightness in his chest. “Why isn’t he calling for you?”

“He’s not my alpha,” Derek states.

“Well who else is in your pack, if this alpha isn’t your alpha? You said we have to have an alpha, right?”

“I don’t have a pack here,” Derek answers and Bobby learns what regret and sadness smell like.

“You lost all your family?” Bobby asks quietly. There’s some feeling for Derek, not the same as for the alpha outside calling him, which is almost an ache. The feeling for Derek is like that, but muted. Kind of how he felt about his ex-wife’s family; he cared, but not as much.

Derek shrugs and says, “I have an uncle who survived the fire. He, um, he’s been in a coma since then. Well, he survived the fire somehow and after that, I guess he fell into a coma. I’m not completely sure how it works. He’s the last of my family now. Other than me.”

“We should go see him,” Bobby says, getting up and gathering paper plates and the rest of the garbage from the living room. Or at least the garbage from dinner. “He’s your family, have you had a chance to see him since you’ve been back?”

Derek shakes his head and Bobby says, “Then yeah, let’s go see him. He’s a wolf, right? So coma or not, maybe he’d want company on the full moon.”

“I don’t know if Peter would even be aware we’re there,” Derek answers and Bobby thinks guilt, but doesn’t say anything because clearly this guy is a just a mess of emotions. It’s handy that everything Derek feels shows on his face, it helps Bobby match scents with emotions. But while it might be interesting to see how many emotions he can understand by scent, Derek’s mood swings are giving Bobby whiplash.

“They say that coma patients know when people are around them and it can help bring them back,” he says. “Anyway, I’m feeling antsy and I’d really like to get out of here.  So my options are planning the front line for Saturday night’s game or going to see your uncle or I can read about how circumcision is the socially acceptable equivalent of female genital mutilation. My vote is going to see your uncle Peter.”

Derek stops by the door and turns to give Bobby a puzzled look. “I thought you teach economics?”

“Yeah, I thought I did, too.”

 

Outside, they head to Bobby’s car, now fixed and back in the driveway. One day too late, in Bobby’s opinion. “I’ll drive, you direct me,” he instructs. “Do you have a car here? You drove from New York?”

“Yes. My car’s not here. I have a car, but I ran over here,” Derek says, looking around Bobby’s car, with his nose wrinkled. Bobby gets it, the car is old and he’s eaten too many meals in it. And he’s driven home too many smelly, hurting players as well.

“The running thing…” Bobby looks over at Derek and shakes his head. “It’s kinda weird. The disco sideburns are strange, but the running thing. It’s really weird.”

“It’s great,” Derek answers, looking as though Bobby’s grown another head. “It’s… it’s fast and free and feels great. You’ll agree, wait until the moon’s full and you’re in the preserve and everything is yours.” He leans back against the seat and for the first time, Bobby thinks he’s relaxed and maybe even happy. Okay, he’ll try the run again, if just thinking about it can cheer up Derek.

“It’s got to be better than this car,” Derek says, looking at the duct tape on the dashboard.

“Hey! I understand you’re the wise, older teacher in this scenario, but no bad mouthing the car!” He pats the dash and says, “Ignore him, Barbie, he doesn’t recognize class.”

Derek says nothing, just raises an eyebrow.

“Look, this is the only thing I got from my wife when she left me for an anesthesiologist. She so generously allowed me to buy her out of the house, but she left me with the car when she took my dignity, all my money and one remaining testicle.”

“Did you say one testicle?” Derek asks, and there’s a new scent Bobby doesn’t recognize, but it doesn’t smell very happy. Like Derek can talk, he’s probably got two testicles.

“Yes. There was an incident while I was in college. Do you want me to tell you about it?” Bobby asks, turning down what should be the final street before they get to the hospital.

“No. No, not really,” Derek answers, moving a little closer to the door.

“So can we turn into real wolves? Like four legged with-fur wolves?”

“I think only born wolves and alphas can do that. I’m really not sure about bitten betas.” Derek looks out the window and quietly says, “My mother could and so could some of my other family. They could do the full shift.”

Bobby’s quiet as they pull into the hospital parking lot and it’s easy to find an empty space. “We’re after hours. Is that going to be a problem?”

Derek shrugs and says, “I don’t know, I’ve only been here once. I think we just go in and see if they kick us out.”

“Yeah, this won’t be suspicious at all.” At least Derek knows where his uncle’s room is, down a couple of corridors. No one bothers them on the way, no one asks any questions, which should be weird, but hey, Beacon Hills. Unfortunately, when they get to Peter’s room, it’s empty. “I thought you said he was in a coma? Would they have him out for treatment or tests or something at this hour?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t seem…” Derek starts and then turns when they hear footsteps from down the hall.

The man stopped outside the room used to be handsome, that much is obvious. He’s tall with bright blue eyes, but his smile is pulled by the scars on his face and neck. “You must be Bobby.”

“Bobby, move, he’s the alpha!” Derek yells and rushes towards the man, shifting as he moves to attack.

It’s some kind of instinct he certainly didn’t expect, but Bobby steps in front of the man and feels his fangs drop as he growls back at Derek.

And he certainly doesn’t expect to feel his newly found alpha’s clawed hand grab him around the neck. “Now, nephew, that’s not a very nice way to greet your long lost uncle, is it? But I’m willing to forgive you and welcome you to our pack.”

“Um, hey, you must be Uncle Peter, the thing that bit me, right?” Bobby says, swallowing carefully. He can’t see the claws around his neck, but he feels the sharp tips as they tremble against his neck. He knows what his own claws look like and this is not a good feeling. “I guess you’re my alpha, according to Derek. He’s been giving me a crash course in being a werewolf, but I think I could probably learn a lot from you. That is if you don’t kill me.” He smiles what he thinks is his best, winning smile, hoping that somehow the man behind him will feel it as he sends thoughts of good will, friendship and please don’t kill me or let me shit myself.

“Hmm,” Peter mutters, rubbing his cheek against the back of Bobby’s neck as his grip loosens. “So you’re my good little beta. I chose well.”

Bobby normally doesn’t like men who rub against him – not that it’s happened all that often – but for some reason, it loosens the knot inside Bobby’s chest and he takes a deep breath, in spite of the hand still around his neck. “Derek? Derek, I still need you, and so does Peter.”

Peter’s hand drops and he takes a step in front of Bobby, which Bobby realizes is a sign of protection. His alpha is protecting him and whatever the beast is inside him, it rumbles happily. At the same time, he has to keep himself from stepping forward again to protect his alpha. His life has gotten very strange.

“I’m willing to listen to you,” Derek grumbles, with his eyes flashing bright blue.

Bobby sighs, and thinks this guy can’t do anything without being dramatic.

“Let’s sit down and talk then,” Peter says, going into his room and after the two other men enter, he shuts the door behind him.

The discussion is interesting and while Bobby learns more about the history of the Hale pack and their recent tragedy, he doesn’t learn much more about being a werewolf. The fire and the aftermath takes up most of their conversation, which all in all, is a good thing, in spite of the raised voices, claws and fangs that regularly appear. Peter has plans and Bobby needs to figure out a way to help his alpha and make sure they all live through this.

A nurse interrupts them once, her eyes shooting daggers at Bobby and Derek. “Peter, are you okay? Who are these people, you shouldn’t have visitors!” she whispers, stepping into the room.

He flashes his eyes at her and Bobby’s pretty sure he saw some fang, too. Well, he thought he did, before he felt compelled to turn his head, showing his throat. Having an alpha will take some getting used to.

Peter smiles at her and it makes Bobby’s blood freeze. “We’re fine, Jennifer. I’m just discussing the future with my pack.”


	4. Bobby Builds a Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby plays counselor for Peter and Derek and starts investigating the fire.

Bobby’s a bit tired the next day at school, but he doesn’t feel as bad as he expected. Again, werewolf stuff, probably. Which is good because, nope, caffeine doesn’t do a damn thing anymore.

Economic class is painful as usual. Some of the students do actually listen and seem interested and some are clearly there to get the credit needed for their elective class. He tries to do some of the tricks that Derek and Peter talked about to block out extra noises and smells and it works a little. Not entirely, because there’s just so many people around him, but at least the clock ticking over the door doesn’t sound like a drum any more.

“Coach, when do you think we’ll get our last papers back?” Danny asks.

Bobby doesn’t actually dislike Danny; he’s a good student and a good lacrosse player, without being a showboat on either. And he seems to keep his friend, Jackson, from becoming too obnoxious. “Problem, Danny? Worried it’ll lower your grade point average or something?” he asks, reaching for the text book on his desk. “If you’re worried, I can always give everyone a pop quiz to give you something else to think about while you’re waiting.”

There’s some general mumbling and that’s fine, takes a bit of pressure off him for the late papers. He really does need to get his real-life stuff done. And probably he needs to stop thinking of this as real-life and the werewolf stuff as not; it’s all real-life now.

“Okay, everyone start reading the next chapter, you’ll have a quiz on it. Stilinski, come with me, outside.”

It’s strange, he knows, but this might be the time when having a reputation (however unearned) for being odd comes in handy.

“Jackson, you’re a natural born snitch, make sure everyone is reading, or at least they’re quiet. I’ll be right back, do not make me come back and yell at you.”

Stilinski stinks of nerves and excitement at the same time, which figures, as even before the wolf stuff, Bobby knew the kid’s wiring was a little off. Not in the worst way, not like some of them (he’s going to have to check on that Taylor kid in a later class and see if he can smell serial-killer-in-training on him) but in an interesting kind of way. “You’re the sheriff’s son, right? So maybe you know…” He’s not certain how to proceed, this worked in his head. What the hell, this either works or the sheriff’s son will suddenly know a lot more. “A few years ago there was a fire in the nature preserve on some property there. The family was the Hales and their house burnt, killing most of the family. Did your father investigate that?”

Stiles seems to consider this, something Bobby appreciates. “I think my father was a deputy then, and probably started looking at it, doing some of the investigation.” He scratches his head and there’s the scent of old worry and sorrow – similar to Derek and Peter’s but muted. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember much about it, it’s kind of fuzzy because it’s right around when my mother…”

Bobby interrupts and says, “Yeah, right, sorry, you probably can’t help, nevermind.” There really are times he hates this town.

“But I might be able to find stuff. It was a long time ago, at least in police timing. And I’m pretty sure it was closed as an accident, wasn’t it?”

He’s smart, this one. Which can be helpful, if Bobby can control him. He doesn’t want to think what Peter would do to get this kid’s intelligence – or to stop his curiosity.

“What do you need? Maybe I can find something. I’m good at research,” Stiles says and yes, there’s a weird blip in his heart beat that Derek told him about. Where’s the lie?

“If – and this is a big if – you do any research, it’ll need to be private. Between just the two of us, not even involving your little friend, McCall. No telling anyone about anything, hear me?” Bobby says and studies the boy in front of him. Fuck, he’s practically vibrating with interest. “If anyone asks why we’ve been talking, it’s because you’re playing on Saturday. You do want to play on Saturday, don’t you?” He feels a minute of regret when he says this; Stiles probably won’t lose the game for him, but maybe he’ll break something.

“I can play? Like in a game? With other people? During the game when the other team is on the field?”  He’s so excited his scent and heart beat are all over the place. “I can probably find out about the fire, there’s records and stuff. Some things are private, but…” he shrugs and Bobby wonders if he should visit the kid in jail.

“Can you do this on the down low? Seriously, Stiles, I can’t…” It’s the lesser of two evils, Bobby thinks. “I can’t emphasize enough that no one can know you’re doing this research.”

Stiles snorts and makes a face. “Yeah, of course. I can cover my tracks electronically,” he says and there’s a flash of worry. “But if there is something wrong, maybe I should tell my dad.”

It’s low, but for a good cause. Bobby covers his mouth and whispers/shouts, “Now playing – number 24! And the crowd goes wild!” He makes crowd noises and says again, “It’s private for now; if something develops, _I’ll_ tell your father.”

“He could get answers faster,” Stiles says and Bobby sighs, something he’s been doing a lot lately.

He holds out his hands in front of himself, palms up. Raising his right hand, he says, “Okay, this is me getting the information and you not saying anything.” He raises his left hand and makes the balance-motion between the two of them. “And this is you actually playing on Saturday night. Whoa! Whoa!” he cries moving his hands up and down.

Stiles looks at Bobby’s hands and says, “That doesn’t make sense, it’s like…”

“It makes sense to me,” Bobby whispers, looking down the hallway to be sure no one else is there. “Get the info quickly and be quiet and you play. Got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” Stiles says, nodding as though he might stop arguing.

“Skip practice tonight, work on the info,” Bobby commands.

“Shouldn’t I practice if I’m playing?” Stiles asks him and there’s a genuine scent of concern.

He can’t very well tell the boy he’ll probably die on the field, so he says, “If you want to play on Saturday, skip practice. We’re good? Good, now get back into class.”

They go back into the classroom and Bobby hears McCall whisper, “What did he want, are you okay?”

Stiles grins and answers, “I’m front line on Saturday!”

God, Bobby hopes that’s true. He looks around the room, making eye contact where he can. “Lydia Martin -- you’re not as stupid as you pretend to be, so tell us, what are the potential problems with having your savings in bearer bonds?”

 

“You look good,” Bobby says, studying Peter as he and Derek comes into the house later in the evening. His face is unblemished, no sign of the burn marks at all. And as expected, he’s a very handsome man. “Umm, what happened to the…” he gestures to his own face, still looking at Peter’s very clear and healed skin.

“I got better,” Peter tells him, grinning. “The benefit of being an alpha and having a pack.” He passes Bobby and stops for a second, rubbing his cheek against Bobby’s.

And Bobby – it settles something in his chest that he didn’t even know was anxious. It’s ridiculous and he hopes that as he gets used to his new life it won’t affect him so strongly, but for now, it’s better than a cigarette and a glass of scotch. 

Peter obviously knows, his scent and smile both smug. “If you weren’t my alpha, I probably wouldn’t like you,” Bobby confesses.

“I’ll grow on you,” Peter tells him, sitting down and looking at the papers spread out on the coffee table.

“He’ll grow on you like fungus,” Derek confirms. “You’re still okay? Any problems at school today?”

“I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you mean,” Bobby says. “Hope you’re hungry, dinner’s almost ready.”

Soon, they’re around Bobby’s dining room table, happily eating giant helpings of pot roast with potatoes and carrots.

“You act like you haven’t eaten in weeks,” Bobby chuckles and pushes the serving spoon towards Peter. “Of course in your case, that’s probably right.”

“This is much better than my former diet,” Peter agrees, putting a hand on his side. “A feeding tube isn’t fun.”

Bobby turns and glares at Derek, remembering part of their three hour lesson. “Didn’t it heal? Like heal and not work? I thought you said we’d heal. You told me healing was a thing.”

“We would normally, but remember, I had been terribly burnt and that affected my healing.” Peter takes another chunk of meat and pulls it apart with his fork. “In a normal pack, with pack members around, I would have healed faster. But of course, _my_ pack chose to leave me here.”

Derek sighs loudly and spears a carrot out of the pot on the table. “As I said, we were kids and terrified. Laura said we were leaving and we did. She was the alpha and I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“And if you had? Did you ever mention it to her that her only other living relative was back in the city she left, alone in a hospital?”

“Are you both like this because of the moon or is this something I can look forward to all the time?” Bobby asks, reaching for the ketchup. “Not that I’d take sides or anything, but leaving your relative was kind of shitty.”

“And he killed my sister. He killed his niece to take her power,” Derek says with a growl. “How do you feel about that?”

Peter slams his glass down on the table, splashing water around it. “I was not in my right mind, Derek. I’d been locked in my body and locked in a building, away from the moon, for years. When I was finally outside during the moon, I was practically feral. All I knew was there was someone in front of me and it was an alpha. I went with my instincts. Because I listen to my wolf instincts, unlike you and your alpha.”

“I don’t know why Laura didn’t kill you. You were weak and she was the alpha. The only thing I can think of, is she knew it was you. Did she call you Uncle Peter before you killed her?” Derek snarls, rising out of his seat with his claws are out.  

“Hey, hey you two, this isn’t good. You’re ruining my table and my dinner. So here’s the truth.” Bobby looks towards Derek and says, “It was shitty leaving your family behind. Regardless of the reason, you could have said something. You told me when we first met that we’re brothers, but you and your sister left your uncle here to rot.”

“And you,” he says, turning to his alpha, determined to continue in spite of Peter’s flashing red eyes, “you _did_ kill his sister, and you guys don’t have a lot of relatives, so I can see why he’s pissed.  Now what I think you two should do is to apologize to each other and let’s move on, because nothing is going to go back and change. At least I don’t think so. We have werewolves, do we have time travel?”

Peter snorts and shakes his head, muttering, “How did I pick you?”

“Well we all got lucky, didn’t we? Now, Derek, you go first,” Bobby says and turns towards the younger man, who is sitting again, gripping the edge of the table.

“I’m sorry we left you, Peter.  It wasn’t my decision to leave, but if you still want to blame me…”

Bobby holds up a hand to stop him; this is like dealing with the fifteen year olds at work. “That’s not an apology, Derek. None of that crap. Take responsibility. It was six years, but you weren’t always a kid.”

Derek takes a breath and his eyes flash at Bobby who just shrugs at Peter. “Peter, I’m sorry we left you, we shouldn’t have done that. We should have taken you with us or come back for you or… I’m sorry. We were wrong and I was wrong and… I hope we can be a pack again.”

“Good job, Derek, excellent apology.” Bobby pats him on the shoulder and then turns to Peter. “And your apology now?”

“For what? I did what I had to do,” Peter says, flashing his eyes at the others.

Derek ducks his head and Bobby looks away, aware that he’s baring his neck and uncertain why he feels he has to. But after a few seconds, he turns back to Peter. “I understand you feel that way, but we’re not going to get over this until you both apologize and accept the other’s apology. So try it again. I’m not kidding, Peter, we can wait.” He sits back, crossing his arms, and looks at Peter.

Peter sighs and rolls his eyes and finally says, “Derek, I’m sorry about Laura. I will say I was out of mind at the time, feral in fact. I don’t know if I knew her, but I did know there was an alpha in the woods and as soon as I realized that, I wanted to kill them. But I am sorry it was her and I would like us to start over, because we are all that’s left of our pack and there’s still a lot of things to be done to avenge the family we’ve lost.”

“Well that was almost warm and fuzzy, wasn’t it? Okay, now, shake it out,” Bobby says, smiling and gesturing to the two men. “Shake hands. That’s what you do when you apologize to show you’ve accepted the other’s apology. Shake hands, now, or I swear to god, I’ll take you both to the school and make you run wind sprints, don’t think I won’t.”

“Fucking hated wind sprints,” Derek mutters. He pushes his chair back and stands, slowly approaching Peter with his head down, shoulders curled in as though it will make him look smaller.

Peter meets him halfway and before Bobby can say anything else, Peter rubs his hand up Derek’s arm and clasps it around his neck. They lean towards each other and rub their cheeks together for a second, until Derek whines and drops his head on Peter’s shoulder, burying his face in his uncle’s neck. Peter smiles, eyes briefly flashing red. He growls deep in his throat and rubs his face against Derek’s for another few seconds until they both pull back smiling.

“Wow,” Bobby says, rubbing his chest. “That was… there’s something… am I okay?”

Derek smiles at him and says, “It’s the pack bond settling. For the three of us. We’re a pack.”

“And the thing with the eyes and the growling and the hugging? That was what?” he asks Peter.

“Scent marking. It’s how we know each other and strengthen the pack bonds. And if you were to meet other wolves, it would tell them something about our pack. That you have one and you have an alpha and you’re not feral,” Peter says, then gives Bobby’s shoulder a squeeze. “Derek and I will both scent mark you later. I’m sure it seems a bit strange to you, but as you become more familiar and comfortable with your wolf, it’ll seem natural; you’ll crave the closeness.”

“Okay,” he says, shrugging, because why not? It’s not a lot stranger than anything else that’s happened. “Yeah, I kind of feel that already. And if I can get used to that weird running thing and the lack of eyebrows, I’m sure I’ll get used to this. Now if we’re done eating, there’s three of us and three choices: you can help grade essays, you can write Friday’s quiz or you can help with Saturday’s roster and play schedule.”

Peter quirks an eyebrow and says, “I was history major and played basketball. I don’t think I’m qualified for any of these. Oh, and I’m your alpha. I don’t need an assignment, but points for trying.”

“History major!” Bobby crows, and gently pushes Peter back towards a chair in the living room. He already knows the wolf’s strength, so he knows he can only move Peter because the alpha allows it. “Excellent, you can start with the essays. Derek, how about write Friday’s quiz and I’ll do the roster. I have to rearrange some things to move around and I need to figure out how to put a suicidal idiot into play.”

Derek’s brows draw together in confusion and he looks from Bobby to Peter. “You want me to write an economics quiz?”

“You’ll do fine, I’ll give you the chapters and just pick out some questions. You can do it with your eyes shut, it’s what I do.” He stands and starts to gather the plates, smiling as Derek automatically moves to help, looking over his shoulder as Peter looks at the stack of papers. “And when we’re done with this, maybe you can tell me more about what you know about the fire.”


	5. Bobby Talks with the Sheriff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack plans for Bobby's conversation with the Sheriff and some clean-up happens first. And that Stilinski kid is really strange.

Thursday, Coach will admit he feels like crawling out of his skin. His classes are barely tolerable, the students are all even louder and more annoying than usual. And they stink. The girls wear too much perfume, their make-up smells strange and chemically, the scent of their lipstick floating towards him when they talk. The boys are even worse; the smell of Axe always makes him want to retch and today it’s even worse. It’s hard to decide if the Axe is worse than their natural goat smell. Over all of it is the smell that Derek tells him is lust. It rolls off them in waves, at various levels throughout the day.

McCall’s one of the worst, staring at the Argent girl with sickening heart eyes. Apparently he thinks it’s love, but his scent is screaming how much he wants to bone her. Little creep.

An Argent, Coach thinks. One of the ones who killed his pack’s family just over six years ago. Stiles sent him some information by email (how he got his personal email, Coach doesn’t even want to think about) and that, along with what Peter’s figured out, isn’t helping Coach’s temper today.

He’s passes out the graded essays, glancing around to see if there’s any obvious concerns. Peter seemed to enjoy his assignment and took it very seriously, with much snorting, eye rolling and liberal use of a red pen. Bobby’s starting to get an idea of his personality and he’s not sure he’ll be any different after he gets his revenge.

“I got a C minus,” Scott whispers to Stiles, disappointment on his face. “I thought I did a good job, Allison even read it for me. Next time, I’ll let you read it. How’d you do?”

Stiles scratches his head and says, “I got a B and the comment ‘Good research, well thought out, but a bit off topic.’ Hmm, doesn’t even look like Coach’s scrawl.”

“You got a B on your circumcision paper? How’s that fair?” Scott whines, still looking at the red marks on his essay.

“Fair is high school, McCall, this is real life. Deal with it,” Coach says, slamming open the text book on his desk.

Stiles looks around and says, “Umm, we are in high school, Coach.”

“You want to be picky about this, number 24? Really, today, you want to be picky? Number 24? If you truly are number 24.”

“No, sir, coach! Everything’s fine,” Stiles says, heads down and opening his book. “Weird, but fine,” he whispers.

 

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything. Notes and everything you’ve said and and and … anything else?” Coach asks the two wolves sitting in his living room for the second night in a row.  

“I’m not sure I like this,” Peter says, studying Bobby carefully. “Not all humans really appreciate being told about the supernatural. Some take it quite badly. Some set everything you love on fire.”

Derek looks away and Bobby shakes his head. “Yeah, true. But no need to poke at Derek at every opportunity. I mean, he was what? 15? 16? Trust me, I teach 15 year olds. Show a 15 year old boy a boob and he’ll turn government secrets over to ISIS.” He pats Derek on the shoulder, picking up the envelope they’ve put together and sits at the dining room table. “The sheriff is going to meet with me at his home so we have privacy. I’ll explain that the fire was arson and done because your family’s all werewolves, complete with a demonstration to him. And I’ll be frank that he needs to jump on this or else we’ll have to.”

“Derek and I will be outside in case you need us. Not that we don’t trust you, but just as back-up.” Peter paces around the small living room, but he does give Derek’s shoulder a soft squeeze, which takes the tension in the room down a notch.

“I appreciate that,” he answers. “And in exchange, there’s no murdering. We let the Sheriff prove he can handle this right and we keep our hands – or paws – clean.”

Peter smirks, and sits next to Bobby. “No more murders. From this point on. Assuming something starts happening quickly. Very quickly, Robert.”

Sighing, Bobby says, “Something you want to tell us? I’d prefer not being arrested tonight.”

Peter looks at the salt and pepper shakers, shaped like footballs. “Well… you remember the nurse you met the other night? Jennifer? She may have had an unfortunate accident.”

“And where is she? Do we need to do any clean up?” Derek asks. And Bobby looks at how Peter smiles. It warms his heart.

“She’s in the trunk of her car in the mall parking garage.” Peter answers, unable to keep the satisfied smile off his face. “I thought it would be a bit before anyone noticed the car hasn’t been moved. That and human’s sense of smell isn’t that good.”

“Lovely, just lovely,” Bobby says, scratching a hand roughly through his hair, making it look even more unruly. “It’s going to be kind of hard to pretend that’s an animal attack. Unless she was attacked by a cougar who then locked her in the trunk.”

“I wasn’t really thinking of how it would appear. I just wanted her dead.  She – she wasn’t a nice person,” Peter says, deceptively quiet. Strangely quiet.

Bobby and Derek look at Peter, who’s looking away from them. Bobby tilts his head, trying not to be too obvious as he sniffs, because this is his alpha after all. Peter smells like something he’s smelled before, but he’s not quite sure of what it means. He glances at Derek, who’s also turned away and suddenly Bobby remembers; Peter smells similar to how Derek smells when he talks about Kate. Embarrassment-sorrow-shame and so much rage that Bobby can’t help but lean backwards. The last is certainly not what Derek feels, not judging by his smell. There’s a part of Bobby that hopes someday Derek will feel that kind of rage as well.

“Well okay then.” He exhales loudly and thinks of the unpleasant options until an idea hits him. “Question: how deep is that lake in the preserve?”

 

It’s not a difficult task, just rather unpleasant, especially given Bobby’s new sense of smell. He’s elected to go in and get the car, pulling open the door and finding the keys where Peter left them, in the glove box – something else mountain lions are famous for. He drives carefully out of the garage, hooded sweatshirt pulled low over his face in case there’s cameras anywhere. Then it’s bing bang boom. Pick up the other two wolves, drive to the preserve and push the car into the lake. He’ll be about thirty minutes late to the Sheriff’s house, but he sent a quick text earlier apologizing and there’s really nothing else he can do about it. This is important for his pack so it’s important to Bobby.

 

The Sheriff invites him in and Bobby can hear Stiles moving around upstairs. Their house reminds him a little of his own, what he thinks of as comfortably lived in.

“You said you needed to see me and it’s important?” Noah asks. He’s still standing by the dining room table, and Bobby thinks his scent is impatient. Or maybe that’s the look on his face. “And it’s not about Stiles?”

Bobby hears the boy’s sigh of relief from his place on the stair landing. “No, it’s not about Stiles, but it’s very important. You may want to sit down,” he says. He wasn’t expecting Noah’s son to be there and now he has to decide what to do. The kid’s smart, that’s for sure. He got Bobby public records and some files from the police records. Plus, he could be involved eventually if his father’s investigating hunters. Plus, his best friend is dating the little Argent princess, which is either good or bad, Bobby isn’t sure yet.

From outside he hears Peter command, “Get rid of the boy.”

“Should Stiles be here? Because he’s sitting upstairs listening in,” Bobby says, glancing towards the stairs where he hears an increasing heartbeat. Guilt or excitement, he’s not sure.

“He won’t listen in, he’s used to police business.” Bobby chuckles because dammit, Noah really seems to believe what he’s saying.  “Stiles, go to your room and turn on your television!”

Bobby hears the bedroom door slam and the television on fairly loud. He waits a few seconds and hears the door creak open and stocking feet in the hallway.

“Get rid of the boy, Robert,” Peter says again, and there’s a small snarl in his tone.

“Time for an executive decision,” Bobby says, both to Noah and to his pack outside. “Number 24, get in here and listen if you’re going to listen.”

Stiles slinks into the living room, giving his father a tight smile before he sinks into one of the faded arm chairs flanking the sofa.

“Okay, what’s so important?” Noah asks, sighing as he looks at his son. Yeah, Bobby does that a lot, too.

“You need to reopen the investigation into the Hale house fire. It was about six years ago and it was marked as an electrical fire, but it wasn’t. It was arson; there’s a group of people who wanted to kill the Hales and nearly did kill all of them.” He pulls some papers out of an envelope and hands a set to Noah. “This has all their names, where they were recently and what their roles were.”

Noah shifts through the papers and asks, “And you know this how?”

“I know some of the survivors. They know it was arson and have been doing their own investigation. But they’re losing patience and frankly, if you don’t jump on this… well, they will.”

“Who is they?” Noah asks as he continues to flip through, stopping to read in more detail every now and then. “There were only, what, two survivors?”

“Three,” Bobby answers. “Two of Talia’s children, Laura and Derek. And Talia’s brother, Peter.”

“I remember the kids,” Noah says, turning the pages over on his lap. “They were out and when they got home, their house and family were gone.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I remember them at the station, waiting for CPS to come pick them up. A day or so after that, they were gone. We weren’t able to find them to even get a statement. Peter? I thought… isn’t he in a coma? Nearly died and I think I remember hearing he was in long term care still?”

“He got better,” Bobby says flatly. “It’s a miracle, praise the lord. He came out of his coma and he spent the last couple of months doing this research.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t hear about it,” Noah says, glancing down at the papers again. “That’s the sort of thing that makes the newspapers. Or, if he knew something, we’d come in and get a statement from the actual witness.”

Wow, yes, this guy’s a cop. “Usually, yes, but he’s taking it slowly. In fact, I don’t think his doctors know what happened to him. Right now, we’re working on papers explaining his transfer to a hospital in New York to be closer to his remaining family and from there, he’ll make an amazing recovery.”

Noah looks at the papers again and then at Bobby. “Who’s we and why are you involved in this? And I haven’t heard of a motive for this yet. You said there’s a group of people who wanted to kill them, so why?”

“I’m involved… I’m involved…” He exhales and gets up, moving towards the china cabinet where he saw a bottle of bourbon on the shelf next to some glasses. “Sorry for being so pushy, but I think you’re going to need this,” he says, taking the bottle and glass and putting them on the table in front of Noah.

Stiles looks at the bottle and his father and there’s a faint smell of nerves. Bobby gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile and remembers what he heard about the sheriff’s family after his wife died. Hopefully the fact that there’s a bottle in the house at all means he’s got it a little under control.

 

“Okay, so here’s what’s happening. The people responsible for the fire are around; we know where they are, mostly still in or just outside of Beacon County.” Bobby sits forward in his chair and pulls pages out of the stack as he talks, making sure Noah looks at the ones he’s referencing.

“And why are these guys staying around?” Noah asks. “Hey, isn’t this one a teacher at your school?”

He’s sharp, Bobby thinks. If he’d been the sheriff when the fire happened, these guys would already be in jail. “Basically, Peter suggested it’s in their best interest to stay around. And they’re pretty much willing to, because between Peter and Kate, they understand they’re in between the proverbial rock and hard place.”

“And Kate is…” Noah looks at the papers again and raises an eyebrow. “Katherine Argent? She’s Christopher Argent’s sister? The family who just moved into town?”

Bobby hears Peter’s growl from outside and knows he has to get the sheriff to agree or Peter will go on his own revenge spree. Which isn’t good for a lot of reasons, including the selfish one that Bobby doesn’t want to lose his alpha. Now it’s a mixture of self-preservation and this weird pack feeling he’s developed. This his family now and they need protecting. “Yes. The Argents, specifically Kate and her father, hated the Hales and targeted them.” He pauses, shaking his head. Peter and Derek know what he has to explain, but it can’t be comfortable being outside and listening to this. “Kate targeted Derek, who was 16 and seduced him to get him to tell her about his family. Who lived there, who would be visiting when and escape routes from out of their house. She’s the only one that Peter hasn’t completely tracked down.”

Noah asks the big question Bobby’s been waiting for. “And why all of this? Why their family?”

He huffs out a breath and looks from father to son. “You may want to pour yourself a drink, Sheriff,” Bobby says, but Noah just sits and waits. “The Hale family, most of them at least were or are werewolves. Mostly born ones, it’s genetic, but a few were bitten after they joined the family through marriage.”

“Yeah, okay,” Noah says, standing and shoving the papers back into the envelope Bobby gave him. “I told you I’d give you some time for something important and I listened and then you give me…”

Bobby sees a vein pulsing in his temple and he guesses he’s not surprised. If he were the sheriff, he’d need convincing, too. “I give you details on a crime that killed nine people. I’m giving you the names and locations of people for you to arrest and I’m giving you…”

“You’re giving me a fucking headache, Finstock!” Noah yells, slamming the envelope down on the table. “You said you had information about a crime, a cold case murder and so I agreed and you…”

“Okay, sorry, but here you go,” Bobby says and concentrates on shifting, just like Derek and Peter have told him. It must be a success when he hears Stiles whisper, “Holy shit!” and the Sheriff steps in front of Stiles, reaching for where he should have a gun on his hip.  

“Yeah, there’s that,” Bobby says, working to get everything back to normal. “They’re born, I got bit, um, rather recently.” He sits down and looks up at the Stilinski men who are still staring at him. Noah looks a minute from throwing up and good old number 24 looks like he couldn’t be happier. What a disturbing kid.

“Wow, so there’s an alpha and everything? And he bit you and now, now do you have a pack of werewolves?” Stiles asks, bouncing in his chair like a six year old on Christmas.

Noah stares at his son, and Bobby thinks it’s probably a typical look. “What are you asking? How do you know this and why does your teacher have fangs and claws?”

“Uh, the internet, Dad? And just… you live here and you start to see that things are kinda screwy around here, you know? And he has fangs and claws because he’s a werewolf, just like he said.” Stiles turns back to Bobby and asks, “So the Hales are your pack? Who bit you? Does he look like you? Or he must be even more wolfie, right? What does he look like? Can he turn into a real wolf?”

“Peter is the alpha, that’s basically how he healed from all his coma stuff and burns. And he looks like a combination of a rabid bear and a rabid wolf who was belted by gamma rays,” Bobby says shrugging. Rude, but true.

Bobby hears Peter snort from outside and Derek whispers, “It is a different look.”

“So can we meet him? Or them? If we’re going to arrest the guys who did this?” Stiles asks and the same time his dad is shaking his head.

Bobby tends to agree, at least for now. The fewer “civilians” around Peter, the better. “I don’t know, it’s not up to me. Especially not right away, because right now, the people who killed their family need to be arrested. Quickly. I’m sorry to push, but I convinced Peter to give me 72 hours or Peter and Derek will start looking for justice themselves. Which means they’ll be bodies all over Beacon Hills. You can’t kill a man’s family and expect him not to be pissed.”

Noah sighs and pours himself two fingers of the bourbon and tosses it back, making Bobby a bit jealous that he can do that. “So if we start arresting people, if they’re where they’re supposed to be, there won’t be any murders?”

Outside, Peter says, “Probably not. I’ll do my best.”

“No, no murders, Peter promised.” Bobby takes a breath and moves forward with a rough part of this discussion – or another rough part, if he’s honest. But if Noah is as good as he’s supposed to be, he’ll find out. “FYI, you might find the nurse who was taking care of Peter has gone missing. I’d say it’s not a loss; she wasn’t a good person.”

“Missing? Can you maybe give me a little more information? Is someone going to ask about her?” Noah asks, pulling a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know if she’ll be missed. If she is, it’ll be by people who don’t know her. She was not a good person, Sheriff. I believe she had a problem with bad-touching her patients.”

“Peter?” Noah asks, and his scent turns sharp, bitter and angry. “He was in a coma and she…?” 

“Gross,” Stiles says, wrinkling his nose. “Talk about unable to consent, that’s just sick. She did what? She moved suddenly?” he asks, and there’s an evil glint in his eyes, making Bobby think that Peter’s gonna love this kid.

Bobby shrugs. “I think you’ll find she left the area very suddenly, just took her car and took off.”

Noah looks at him and if Bobby felt any guilt, he might crumble under that judgmental look. Fortunately, he’s grown out of guilt a while ago.

“That’s my understanding,” he says confidently, half listening to the rumbling outside. “I think she was expecting to be arrested, so she left the area, which was a smart move.”

There’s another look from Noah and he finally says, “But she’s the only person who unexpectedly left?”

“As far as I know yes,” he says. And that is the truth, because there are something you don’t want to ask about. “So we have everyone lined up for you except for Kate. And you’ll start working on getting them arrested?”

Looking at the stack of papers one more time, Noah nods and says, “Yeah. Yes, I can start to work with these and… I’ll bring in Harris for questioning and he can give more information that’ll help tie things up. For court and for files. But it looks like Peter did a good job documenting everything.”

“What are we doing about Kate?” Stiles asks, pulling the papers towards him before his father slaps his hand on them and shoves them back into the envelope. “If she’s the one who got the information and she and her father do this a lot...” He looks at Bobby and then his father and says, “Scott’s dating Allison Argent! Kate’s niece! Is he in danger?”

“Is he a werewolf?” Bobby asks, and bless this kid, he’s loyal. And smart, but can’t keep a thought in his head for longer than ten seconds. “If he’s not a werewolf, he shouldn’t have any problem. You – you don’t say a damn thing about this to him. I wanted you to know, because if your father is going to try to arrest these people, he needs to know all the details and the best way to keep you safe is for you to know as well.”

Noah looks at Bobby and once again, his hand moves towards his hip, as though he might suddenly find his gun there. “He’s in danger because I’m working on this?”

“Not particularly,” Bobby says, hoping he’s right. “But the hunters, especially ones like Kate and her father don’t care who gets hurt in the crossfire. Look at the police reports – she was perfectly happy killing little kids. Some of those kids were human.”

“How do we get her?” Stiles asks again.

“Derek and Peter are going to lure her in. And then you’ll need to arrest her before they take care of her themselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr -- http://www.rebakitt3n.tumblr.com/  
> Maybe someday I'll figure out how to do the link!
> 
> Oh and I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea, so I greatly appreciate anyone who's reading and leaving comments!


	6. Bobby's First Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and the pack celebrate the full moon and Bobby puts his foot down about living conditions.

Friday night is the night of the full moon and everyone (meaning Peter and Derek) are meeting again at Bobby’s house. Thankfully, it’s still early in the school year and so the moon hasn’t started to rise during the lacrosse practice after classes. Even so, Bobby knows he’s anxious and maybe just a little worried about how he’ll feel later. For now, if he makes everyone do extra work and drill until they’re all exhausted, so be it.

Peter orders dinner, pretty much every meat item from the Chinese restaurant Bobby recommends. It’s new to him, as the one he liked closed two years ago. There’s a little bit of vegetable, more like a garnish than anything else. When Bobby opens the door to the delivery, shoving his money at the delivery guy, he’s pretty sure he looks manic, but so what, the guy’s probably used to it. And he tips well.

“Why have I never ordered the ribs from here before?” he asks, only slightly concerned that he’s eaten half of them with the bone included.

“I have no idea. These really are good.” Peter grins, crunching on a chicken wing. He studies it for a moment before putting the rest into his mouth and then licking his fingers. “Food is good, I’m glad to be eating food again.”

Derek’s quiet, apparently content to shovel a double-order of broccoli beef into mouth, much more beef than broccoli, and everything doused in sriracha sauce.

“Pork? Do we have pork?” Bobby asks and then looks at the empty box of ribs. “Oh yeah.”

Peter pushes another box towards Bobby and says, “Black bean pork, knock yourself out.”

Derek growls quietly, setting down his half-empty container. “Don’t hog it all,” he mutters, pulling over the now empty box of ribs. “Seriously, I know you’re a new wolf, but damn, didn’t you eat today?”

“Yes! Yes, I ate constantly. When I went out to lunch, I ordered two drinks so the woman behind the counter would think I was ordering for two people!” He grumbles for a second, before sighing at the taste of the new food. “Not sure why I even cared what she thought. I’m sure she’s seen worse.”

“You have good instincts in general; it’s never wrong to avoid suspicions,” Peter says, smiling as he pushes another box full of Mongolian beef towards his beta.

Bobby gets that warm feeling in his chest again and takes a bite of the beef to avoid answering. He never felt the need for (or got a lot of) praise from his parents and it seems strange that any comments from Peter that are even slightly approving makes him so happy. He glances over at Derek who doesn’t seem to notice, which is probably a good thing. After all, Derek is Peter’s blood relative, and Bobby doesn’t want to alienate him. The whole idea of not killing everyone connected to the fire and having them arrested instead, is so Bobby doesn’t lose his new pack. He’s too new to this to be left out on his own and he knows it. His job is teacher and coach and he’s used to taking and giving directions and playing with a team. This is certainly not the time to be a lone wolf, no pun intended.

 

After they stuff themselves full, Bobby puts the few leftovers into containers and shoves them in the fridge. “Okay, now what? What’s the next thing to do? Is this when I go out on a killing spree?”

Peter snorts and picks up a magazine, settling into a chair. “Actually, you’re doing quite well, especially for your first moon. I was expecting Derek and I would have to chain you up or at the very least knock you unconscious. But really, you’re doing great not going crazy and killing everyone.”

Derek gives him a thumbs up and turns on ESPN.

 

“We should go outside,” Bobby says a few hours later. “It’s a nice night and it’ll be winter soon and rain and cold and so we should go out. Now. Let’s go out now. That’s a great idea, let’s go out, out.”

Peter and Derek have what’s apparently a wordless conversation with just eyebrows and smirks, while Bobby paces in his living room wondering if he can go upstairs and escape through the bathroom window.

“Okay, I think we can go out to the preserve and get some experience out there. But…” Peter says, raising a finger, like a strict parent. “But, Robert, you need to stick with us and no running off.”

“Yes, yes, I can do that,” Bobby agrees easily. He doesn’t really want to run away from them, there’s a pull he can’t quite explain and he wants to be with them, but outside under the moon. Fuck, he’s a fucking werewolf, isn’t he?

“And you have to do exactly what you’re told. If we tell you to run or anything we tell you, you need to do it. We’re only doing it to protect you and protect the pack,” Derek says and Bobby wants to roll his eyes. “You’ll also need to be sure you’re keeping control. Remember we talked about your anchor. Don’t make us have to hurt or kill you.”

Peter does scoff and roll his eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Derek. If anyone is going to kill my new beta, it’ll be me.” He opens the door and gestures to Bobby. “So, shall we go?”

 

Under the full moon, the preserve comes alive. The wolves show him how to get there through alleys and parks and maybe Derek’s right about the running. Bobby’s grown to love the feeling; he’s so fast and everything is interesting and he can see and hear so much. The smells can still be a bit much, but the closer they get to the woods, the better everything is.

Once there, Peter and Derek quickly strip and then they shift into actual wolves. They both bump against Bobby, scenting him and suddenly, with one more push against Bobby, they take off and he runs after them. Of course they’re faster than he is, but there’s always one or the other next to him, chasing and being chased, scenting prey in the woods or letting off steam.

The highlight of the night is helping hunt down a deer. It’s a small one, a doe, but Bobby and Derek are able to chase it towards Peter who delivers the killing bite. The part of Bobby that is still human is a little queasy watching Peter gut it and be the first to eat the tender organs. The wolf part of Bobby is thrilled he helped and proud of himself and completely understands the alpha eats first. And when Peter steps back, letting his betas share in the kill, he eats something, not sure what it is, but it’s something from his pack and he feels pride for all three of them. He’ll have time later to think it’s gross.

 

Eventually they go back to the house and they’re all flopped on the furniture in his living room, finishing the leftover carryout. A little before dawn, everyone’s yawning, but looking content, even Peter who has a real smile on his face and there’s little-to-no crazy in his eyes.

“Man, I’m glad tomorrow’s Saturday. Or today’s Saturday, I guess. I think I’ll sleep until the game later,” Bobby says, yawning around his bottle of water. Everyone’s showered and in clean clothes, but no one is anxious to move.

“I think we should go,” Peter says, although he makes no attempt to get up. “You did really well, Bobby, especially for your first moon. I’ve seen born wolves have a harder time.”

“Well, he’s not going through puberty at the same time,” Derek says, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, reminding Bobby that he’s not as old as he seems. “Yeah, we’ll get out and see you later.”

Bobby gets up and heads to the door, asking, “So where are you guys actually living now? Peter, you’re basically an escapee from the hospital – where are you living? With Derek, I guess? In a hotel?”

“Mainly, I’ve been staying in the preserve,” he answers and Bobby gets no feeling of worry or unhappiness from him. “I’ve been essentially locked in a room for six years and it’s nice to be outside. When I’m shifted, it’s very comfortable.”

“Derek, where do you live?” Bobby asks, looking as the younger man shuffles in place. Bobby’d recognize guilt even with no werewolf senses.

“I’ve mostly been in or around the old house. I haven’t really had a chance to get a lot of things or a house, but it’s okay.”

“Jesus fucking Christ! That can’t be safe, not with the house about to fall down and you’ve been telling me for days that there’s hunters around who can get you!” He turns to Peter and says, “And you – you know there’s no wolves in California at this time, so what is a hunter going to think if he sees an actual wolf in the woods? He’s gonna shoot it.”

Peter’s smile makes Bobby’s chest tighten, but at least he’s not flashing his eyes. “First, no one sneaks up on me and second, that’s not the way to talk to your alpha, is it, Robert?”

“It is if I’m trying to keep you safe. Both of you.” He sighs and says, “Look, this house is three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s not great, but it’s better than sleeping in a condemned building or the woods. You’ll have to share a bathroom, but at least the plumbing works.”

“Thank you, Bobby, but I can pay for an apartment. It’s just I’ve had a few other priorities, like revenge for my dead family,” Peter says and there’s an edge to his voice that should make Bobby stop. But doesn’t.

“Yeah, I get that, but don’t you both think you’re in danger? I mean, I’m just being selfish, but I need to keep you guys around and alive! And Derek, you’re staying in the ruin of your old house? Not physically or mentally good for you.”

Derek shakes his head, looking towards the door as though he’ll be able to sneak out. “I thought it would be safer than getting a motel room under my own name. That would be a target on me, if there’s anyone looking for me. Besides... I wasn’t sure if I was staying here at all. I have an apartment back in New York, where I actually live.”

There’s just the briefest skip in Peter’s heartbeat, but Bobby notices it and glances at his alpha. “Well, what are you thinking now? I mean, we’re a pack, aren’t we? You’re staying?”

“I guess so, assuming we don’t die,” Derek answers, but there’s a slight grin on his face, making Bobby think he heard Peter’s heartbeat, too. “I’ll need to go back to pack and ship stuff here, but yeah – I’ll come back. Since there’s a pack here.”

Bobby glances at Peter, who doesn’t show anything on his face and it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. “I could go back with you if you want; help you pack or share driving or whatever,” Bobby says.

“Thanks. Maybe,” Derek says and Bobby can tell he’s pleased.

“You though,” Bobby says, looking at Peter. “You need to stop sleeping in the woods. Seriously, I know you’re tired of being locked in, but you need a place with walls and a roof and all that.”

“I do plan to, after all this is done. I assume I still have money?” he asks, looking towards Derek who nods once. “I’ll get an apartment eventually; it’s just not the most important thing in this minute.”

“Understand, but you need to plan for what you’re going to do once everyone’s arrested or whatever,” Bobby says. He doesn’t kid himself that there’s a good chance of a death before Peter’s revenge is complete. “You have to have an idea of what to do next, or else you’ll just flounder.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Bobby who refuses to back down. “You are very bossy and I’m not sure if you understand the concept of your alpha, pup.”

“You might be the alpha, but I’m probably older than you are and I’ve seen people live for one thing only and when it’s gone or it’s done, they end up lost. And yes, you are the alpha and I need one to make sure I don’t die; that’s very important to me.” He takes a breath and says, “So suck it up and go to your room and go to sleep. Both of you.”

He points down the hallway and is a little surprised when they both go follow his order, talking about who will get which room. Both rooms have single beds and a dresser and whatever extra stuff he’s needed to store. But, they’re clean and inside and there’s very little chance the roof will fall in.

Bobby gets some towels and bed sheets from the hall closet. They don’t match, and he doesn’t remember when he got them. They’re probably ones his ex-wife purchased at one time. They’re clean though, he knows that, and they smell faintly of the bars of soap stored with them, like his mom used to do.  “Towels and sheets, don’t fight over them. Help yourselves to the kitchen and do not wake me up in the morning. I’m not kidding, it ain’t pretty.”

“Thank you, Bobby.” Peter takes the sheets and tucks them under one arm. Then he wraps a hand around Bobby’s neck, brushing his thumb over his cheek. His eyes are glowing red, but this time, Bobby knows it’s okay. His pack appreciates him. And the full moon rocks.


	7. Bobby and the Pack Start Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrests happen, things become kind of normal and that strange Stilinski kid won't go away.

Saturday starts out well, late in the morning, closer to lunch than breakfast. Peter and Derek were obviously up, because there’s coffee left for him in the carafe, and no sign of them. Bobby checks out the front window and the Camero is gone, so maybe they’re out together. Nothing feels bad, what Derek call “the pack bond” feels fine, so he’ll figure it out later.

First thing, he calls the Sheriff’s station and he’s not surprised that Noah is there. It does seem the man works all the time, so much that Bobby briefly wonders about Stiles’ care. But that’s for another day as well.  

“Sheriff?” he asks, not waiting for an answer. “Bobby Finstock. Calling for an update on our discussion of the other day.”

“I’m not going to give you updates on everything that happens, you know. This is now police business,” Noah answers and Bobby can hear the exasperation in his voice.

“I’m not asking to know about everything. Just enough that I can tell Peter there’s progress. Because if he doesn’t think there’s progress…” It’s not a threat, not really. It’s just a fact.

There’s a long pause and Bobby hears an exasperated exhale. He recognizes it because he makes the same noise as well. “I have enough murders to investigate, Finstock. Don’t make me have to investigate any more.”

“Don’t make me tell you there’s more. Can I at least tell him there’s something happening?”

“Yes. We’ve got warrants signed and we’ll start picking people up later today. Or that’s the rumor, at least, but you didn’t hear it from me.” Noah pauses for a minute and says, “Don’t make me regret this, Finstock.”

“Nope! I’ll let you do your job and I’ll do mine. See you at the game later?”

Bobby can almost hear the smile over the phone as Noah says, “Yeah! Stiles says he’s playing. He is, right?”

“First line,” Bobby confirms and he really hopes it goes well. The arrests or the game or maybe both.

 

The actual game doesn’t go as awful as it could, which Bobby counts as a win. Not that their team wins, but they don’t lose by a humiliating amount, and that’s a relief. Plus there’s no fighting on the field, at least not within his team. Sure there’s a few penalties for roughness against the other team, which is to be expected. He’s just glad Jackson and Lahey don’t attack each other, which is a victory in itself. They’re both hotheaded, with a few issues that could use years of therapy.

Stiles… well, he’s not totally awful. He probably could have used that extra day of practice, to be honest. He does get one assist, which obviously surprised him, and he’s only been run down by the other team once. The kid can run, though, damn can he run. Screaming the entire way, but when there’s nine people chasing you, screaming seems appropriate.

And the best thing is Peter and Derek are there. Basically lurking at the side of the bleachers, but they’re there. Bobby doesn’t have a lot of time to concentrate on them, but when he looks over, Peter’s clapping quietly and Derek is shaking his head and they’re both there and it’s good. It’s weird having people there for him, but yeah, it’s good.

After the game, they go out for steaks, someplace a bit out of town where people might not remember the Hales or ask any questions, unless it’s about the amount they eat. Sunday is the day of rest and Bobby can’t wait until he can just veg and watch some games and maybe he’ll figure out something to cook. Or they can order in again. After all, he did get bit by a rich guy.

 

On Monday morning, Bobby’s feeling kind of optimistic. He’s got everything caught up for his classes and doesn’t have to teach a class for first period. Derek and Peter are out, doing whatever the hell they do during the day. As long as no one dies, it’s not his business.

So of course Stiles has to interrupt his quiet time. Peter has one hour with no classes, but here’s Stiles, knocking on the door and slipping inside. “Hi, Coach, can I talk with you for a minute?”

“Sure, come on in, my day was going well, and we can’t let that continue.” Bobby points to one of the desks in front of his and watches as Stiles sits. He’s fidgety as usual and Coach waits.

“Um, okay, for that thing that we talked about? You know the thing with the things and the people who did the stuff?”

“Great code there. Yes, I think I know what you’re referring to,” he says and lets his eyes flash. Now that he has control over it, it’s kind of cool to be able to do that. When appropriate, of course.

Stiles gasps a little, but leans forward instead of moving back. Bobby can only think that it’s because he’s an idiot. “God, that’s cool. Does it hurt?”

Bobby snorts and shakes his head. “No, why would I do it if it hurts? Anyway, you want to talk about something?”

“Yeah, here’s the thing. Scott told me that Allison told him she’s going to be spending some time with her family because her aunt is coming to visit, but Scott’s invited over so he can meet her. So I’m thinking maybe when he’s hanging out with Allison, I can hang out too, and get some information on what Kate’s doing out here and stuff.”

“No. No, absolutely not, are you insane?” Bobby gets up and leans against his desk so he’s right in front of Stiles. “She’s a killer, Stiles, do you not understand that? She’s dangerous. A dangerous killer.”

“Look, I’m not going to do anything to make her upset, I don’t have a death wish or anything, I just thought…”

“No, you aren’t thinking, obviously. I said she is a killer, Stiles. A killer who kills people. Including Peter’s mother, a 70 year old woman. And his four-year old _human_ nephew and that boy’s ten year old sister.  This is too dangerous for you and if you don’t stay away….” Bobby sputters and finally says, “I’ll tell Peter and I’ll tell your Dad.”

Stiles is standing now, too, and he’s a foot from Bobby. “Yes, Coach, I’m aware that she’s a horrible killer and that’s the reason anyone who can help should. It’s like that question about would you kill baby Hitler if you could go back in time. Because you have to.”

Bobby can’t help but grab his hair as he stares at the stubborn boy in front of him. He hates that debate. “I still think you’re being stupid,” he says and watches Stiles shrug, because he’s stupid. “You have to be careful, really careful and don’t seem too interested in her. And for god’s sake, don’t mention us. Or anyone. Make sure to let one of us know where you’re going to be. I’ll be sure that Peter or Derek or I will be outside watching. You don’t even need to yell, we’ll be able to hear you inside a house.”

“You can hear from outside the building?” Stiles asks, looking surprised and smelling excited. Which is better than how he usually smells.

“Yeah, so don’t do anything disgusting, I don’t want to know about it. Now go to your next class, and don’t get killed,” Bobby orders, pointing towards the door.

 

Over the next couple of days, Derek and Peter start following Stiles. He goes with his friend, Scott, to visit Allison. She seems happy enough to have him around, never acting like he’s a third wheel. If Allison or her family think it’s strange, Peter and Derek don’t hear it discussed.

True to his word, the Sheriff starts quietly making arrests. There’s not a lot of noise about it and as Bobby suggested, they’re willing and anxious to be arrested. It’s hard for Noah to tell if they’re more concerned about Peter or Kate, but frankly, he doesn’t care as long as they confess and come in quietly.

The problem, of course, is they’re no closer to getting Kate. She was supposed to be coming to visit her family, and that’s still the plan, but there’s no date and no real information. Peter and Derek take turns sitting outside of Chris’ house, listening to the family talk and trying to get information. Along with making sure that Stiles doesn’t say or do anything that gets any of them, including his fool self, killed. So far, it doesn’t seem like anyone suspects him of being anything other than slightly strange.

 

“Chris knows I’m back here, that’s for sure,” Derek tells his pack over dinner one evening. “Which means if he knows then his father and sister know.”

“Did he say anything to you? Or do anything?” Peter asks and Bobby can’t help but smirk when his fangs hang over his lips. After only a few days he really does like how their alpha is apparently willing to kill anyone who looks at them cross-eyed. Which should be wrong and worrisome, but as long as the maniac is on his side, Bobby is willing to work with it.

“Do anything?” Derek raises a brow and says, “Chris very aggressively washed the front window of my car. And then of course he broke it after. So I’d say he’s aware I’m here and not thrilled.”

“Keep out of his view, both of you,” Peter commands and Bobby feels it in his bones. “He knows about Derek, of course. I don’t know if he’s aware that I’m out of the hospital; I haven’t heard him discussing it with Victoria, but I don’t hear everything they talk about. I really don’t want to hear them in their bedroom.”

Bobby nods, helping himself to another beer. “No, no one does. Noah says he hasn’t had any report of a missing person from the facility, at least not yet. Frankly, I have to say that might not be the best hospital.”

“Probably not. I am much happier to be out.” Peter looks over at Derek and studies him for a moment. “I saw your car and it’s fine. Nothing broken.”

“I had it fixed,” Derek answers. “I couldn’t drive it with the windshield broken.”

“Wait a minute. You had the car fixed but you didn’t set up a place to live? Interesting priorities.”

“Well, Bobby, I was able to change priorities. Now I’m trying to keep everyone alive and get some justice for our family. And thankfully I have a place to live while I’m doing that,” Derek says, flashing his eyes at Bobby.

“Alright, everyone calm down.” Peter yawns, standing and says, “We’re all tired and obviously snippy. I’m going to bed and we can regroup tomorrow after we stalk your student and the Argents.”

 

Bobby has his pack reading and grading more essays one evening when Derek pushes his away and looks at Peter. It’s been obvious to Bobby that he hasn’t been concentrating, his scent going all over the place. “I think I should try to pull her out. Chris knows I’m here, so they all do. I can get her to do something, I know I can.”

“No, Derek. No, you’re not.” Peter says, looking briefly at Derek before making a comment on one of his assignments. “It’s too dangerous; you know she’s not going to be alone. At the very least, she’ll have Chris as her support.”

Derek sighs, scrubbing his hand over the scruffy beard he’s growing. “Peter, I need…. I need to do this, I need to face her. It’s like she’s the boogey man for me and until I see her, she’s…”

It’s Peter’s turn to sigh as he studies his nephew. “What do you think, Robert?”

“I understand his point. I don’t like it, but I’m not sure what our options are.” Bobby takes his turn sighing as they continue to think about how to get Kate, one way or another. In the meantime, there’s more papers to grade.  

 

During the day, Peter and Derek have gone out and started to rework on life. Peter’s purchased several books that came out while he was in the coma and has nice, new phone as well. So they spend evenings in companionable silence, watching TV or reading a book. They’re interrupted by someone coming to the porch. Bobby’s there, looking through the window and opens the door before Stiles can knock.

“Whoa, that was fast. Um, hey, Coach, can I come in for a minute?” He fidgets as he normally does, foot tapping and hands unable to keep still. But even with that, there’s no nervous smell, just something excited.

He looks around the room and smiles at Derek, then sits on the edge of the sofa. “I wanted to tell you, there’s a plan now to get Kate out in the open. You guys need to know that. So Scott, my friend Scott, I’ve known him forever,” he says to the wolves, “he says Allison says her dad says Aunt Kate is coming to visit. Now Allison told her dad that she wants to see Scott play on Friday night, so Mr. Argent said they’ll go watch Allison’s boyfriend play, which means…” he pauses and then announces, “which means Kate will be there.”

Stiles looks at his audience and looks at Bobby before he continues. “Okay, so I told my dad this and he says he was going to come to the game on Friday because I’m playing – I am playing again, right?”

Bobby nods and says, “Yeah, you might as well. You could be worse, I suppose. You’re better than Greenburg.”

“Thanks, Coach… I think. Anyway, my dad’ll be there and he’s going to be able to arrest her there. Because she’ll be in a public place and won’t be able to hurt people. So he’s going to call you, Coach, and figure out what’ll be the trigger telling them to move in.  Like, I get to do a play and then after that it’ll be the time to get Kate. The deputies will be there and it’ll all be coordinated and stuff.”

“You’re actually on the lacrosse team?” Peter asks, studying the boy in front of him, with a look that should make him nervous.

Bobby looks at Stiles, too, trying to see him through Peter’s eyes. He’s used to Stiles, of course, he’s seen him every school day for almost two years. But the kid is really skinny and fuck, he looks young. And fragile. “Yeah. He can run.”

“I’d think track might be a better sport then.” Peter gets out of his chair and kneels in front of him, with Bobby and Derek both tensing. “What do you think is more dangerous? Playing sports or coming into a room full of werewolves?” he asks, showing his fangs, many more and much larger than Bobby’s.

Stiles scent has a bit of fear, but a good deal of curiosity as well. Frankly, Bobby’s impressed by that, while at the same time he really thinks this kid is going to get killed by someone.

“Peter, leave him alone,” Derek says and he keeps steady even when Peter turns to him, flashing red eyes.

“I was just asking. He’s interesting to me, what can I say? The sheriff’s son, right?” Peter reaches out and takes Stiles chin, tilting his head towards him.

Even without werewolf hearing, his swallow is loud. “Yes. And thank you for the grade on my paper. I’m guessing it was you?”

Peter sits back down, looking totally normal again. He’s just a regular guy, albeit one who smirks a lot. “I was a history major a million years ago. It was a good history paper. Well researched.”

“It was a shit economics paper though,” Bobby says. “You’re lucky he graded it rather than me.”

“Your plan, while interesting, is not a good plan,” Peter says, looking at his pack. “You can’t count on Kate acting sane, even in a crowd. It’s been established that she has no qualms about killing innocent people.”

“Chris is a hunter as well; I don’t know that he’d be willing to give up his sister,” Derek says, shaking his head. “Supposedly, he follows the code and only hunts werewolves who’ve killed – ones who are feral. But I don’t know if he was aware of what she did.”

“You know, my father and his deputies have arrested people before. It’s kind of their job. They’re all going to be there – and that’s normal, so it won’t look like a set-up. This is a small town, most people come out for games, even without having a kid on the team. You’re friends with parents who have a kid or your kid knows someone on the team, or you graduated from there. It’s like a social event.” Stiles takes a breath, looking firm and positive and smells like there’s not a doubt in the world. “She won’t be expecting it, there’s no one who could tip her off. All the people who worked with her have been arrested and no one is asking for reduced sentences; they all want to be safely in jail. And I don’t know if that’s because of her or you, Dude.”

 Peter studies him again, head tilted as though Stiles is the most interesting thing he’s seen, which should be a warning to someone with a self-preservation gene. “We’ll be there as well, and we’ll stay in the background and be sure she doesn’t see us. We’ll be extra muscle if needed.  Bobby, perhaps you can find a way to review the plan with the sheriff so we’re all aware of what will happen. And let him know that even if she and Chris are there without guns – and I doubt they will be – we’ll be there with our own weapons,” he says, and flashes his claws.


	8. Bobby and the Pack to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things do not go as planned, but that's not a surprise. Peter is a giant rage monster, but that's not a surprise. Chris is helpful, that is a surprise. And there's actually something that (mostly) shuts Stiles up.

On game day, Bobby looks around, and sees the Sheriff in the stands. The other deputies are there as well, and as they said, it’s not strange at all. People without kids support the team, both for friends and because a lot of them went to Beacon Hills High themselves. This is the first time he’s really anxious about the plan, watching his team play and trying to keep an eye on everything at the same time, without looking like he’s keeping an eye on everything.

He’s not certain where Derek and Peter are in the stadium, but he hears Peter ask “When is this happening, I’m losing patience.”

Bobby looks around the stadium and mutters, “It’s supposed to happen with the play about 5 minutes before the end of the first quarter, so be patient.”

The game does take Bobby’s attention and finally it’s time to put Stiles in. He’s actually not horrible, he manages to make the play he’s supposed to and as planned, he heads off the field towards the lockers. The next time Bobby looks up, all the Argents are gone and Stiles is gone, but some of the deputies are still there, which seems wrong. Suddenly Derek’s running towards the exit and Peter’s running and he calls out “come on!” and yeah, everything went to shit.

Bobby hands his playbook and whistle to Greenberg, telling him, “Emergency, you’re in charge!” He doesn’t stay long enough to see anyone’s reaction, he just takes off to the path by the locker room where he’s seen everyone go and hopefully he’ll figure it out.

No one is there, and he’s not sure what to do next, until suddenly the Sheriff’s car pulls up and he yells, “Get in! They’re gone and she has Stiles.”

Bobby gets in the front and turns to Noah ready to ask what happened.

He doesn’t need to ask, Noah starts talking immediately. “It all went fucked. The Argents started heading out and I thought I was going out after them. She must have suspected something or maybe someone told her or… I don’t know what. But then she grabbed Stiles and I saw her pull him into a car. She has my son, Bobby. She has Stiles.”

Before he can say more, the radio interrupts. “Sheriff, you there?”

“Yeah, Tara. I think she’s in the front car with Stiles and I think Christopher Argent and his daughter, Allison are in another car. I’m behind them.”

She acknowledges his message and Noah looks determined and very official, but his scent is angry and scared, like nothing Bobby’s scented before. Maybe it’s a parent thing.

“Where the fuck would she go? I can’t think she’d hurt the sheriff’s son; she has to know that won’t work out well for her. So he must be a bargaining chip or something, maybe she thinks she can… I don’t know,” Noah says, tugging on his hair, like Bobby does when he’s frustrated. “What is she doing, where is she taking him?”

Before he can guess, there’s a loud thump on the roof, one that shakes the car, making it bottom out for a quick second. Noah and Bobby just look at each other, not sure what happened and then the roof is peeled off from the back window as easily as if it were a soup can.

In no time Peter is in the back seat, in his alpha form, big and snarling and full of teeth and claws.

Understandably, Noah freaks out and Bobby takes the wheel for a minute. “Okay, you good, Sheriff? Be happy he’s on our side. Drive!”

The radio cracks and Tara asks, “Sheriff, is everything okay? One of the other cars said something happened to you?”

“We’re fine,” Noah tells her, looking in the rearview mirror. “It was… a cat jumped on the roof of the car but everything’s fine. Any news?” They’re still following Argent’s car and it looks like he’s following Kate, everyone weaving on the road and least the other cars are pulling off, giving them room.

“They’re headed towards the preserve,” Bobby says, checking in the back seat to see if Peter’s semi-sane. At least he’s back to human. A human with bright red eyes and a scary, small smile. Sane is debatable.

“Okay, the preserve is huge, but she can’t possibly think she’ll lose us. Where the fuck is she going?” Noah asks, speeding up slightly, now directly behind Chris’ car, almost bumper to bumper. They can hear the other deputies coming in from both sides.

“She’s going to the old house. That’s where she started things and that’s where she’s going to want to end it.” Peter shrugs as though that’s the most natural answer, which it might be. “Do you remember how to get there? The road’s a little overgrown, but you can take that.”

Noah gets on the radio and lets his deputies know where to go, turning where Peter points, with his human hand and wolf claws.

“We’ll meet you there. Bobby, come on,” Peter says and crawls out the back window, then jumps off the car and vanishes into the woods.  

“Shit, barely a week as a werewolf and now and I’m gonna die,” Bobby says and jumps out with half a scream.  

 

Bobby follows Peter as they run through the woods, dodging around trees and jumping over anything in the way.  At least he knows where they’re going, if not how to get there. They come out at the burned side of the house and Bobby sees everyone is already there. Which is not a good thing. Chris with a gun pointed at his sister, Allison is standing behind him, crying. Derek has his werewolf face on, growling low in his throat. And Kate has a knife to Stiles’ neck.

Peter growls quietly back in his full alpha shift and Bobby puts a hand on his arm. This doesn’t seem like a good time to jump out, not with Kate’s knife. “You should do the other wolf thing, the one that’s not this.”

There’s another growl and Bobby looks to the side but tells his alpha, “This shift, the alpha thing is a nuke and destroys everything. The other shift is the sniper, taking out just who you want. You want Kate, not everyone out there.”

Peter huffs, but he does shift so he’s the very scary beta shift. “Maybe I want to blow up everything.”

Bobby shakes his head. “You’d kill the Sheriff and Stiles. You don’t want to do that.”

“I can kill all the Argents,” Peter growls and he seems to fluctuate between his two scary shapes.

“You should know, being left alive hurts more,” Bobby says. “Make them hurt.”

Peter looks at him and seems to lock in his beta shift, flexing his hands and watching the clearing, waiting for his chance.

They watch Derek takes a step closer. “Kate, let him go. You don’t want him, you want me. Let him go and I’ll go with you.”

“Derek, step back,” Peter orders and it feels like a shove in his chest, making Bobby take a step back as well.

Bobby can smell and feel Derek’s fear and hurt and guilt and some anger; but not like Peter, which is like standing next to a bomb. He hopes Derek can feel that rage sometime – anger at Kate and not himself is what he needs to get to.

“Don’t make me do this, Kate. You’re my little sister and please, do not make me do this,” Chris is begging and his hand doesn’t waver, he keeps his gun pointed to Kate. “Ally’s here, don’t make her see this.”

“They’re monsters, Chris! You know that, you know what they are!” Kate yells back, looking from Derek to Chris. She points at Derek, shouting, “Look at him! It’s time Allison found out what’s in our world!”

“Yeah, you really should take Derek, I’m just a dumb kid,” Stiles mumbles, leaning back as far as he can to get away from her knife.

“You’re not going anywhere, Kate. You can surrender now before there’s more trouble. No one wants to hurt you,” Noah says, and Bobby assumes he knows that’s not the truth. Peter’s waiting to rip her head off, if Noah doesn’t do it first. Actually, there’ll probably be a line of people wanting to hurt her and hurt her badly. Bobby doesn’t even know her and he’d pull one of her arms off.

“If you believe that, you’re stupid. They’re monsters, they’re all monsters and we all should be doing this! Look at him!” She points at Derek again with just one finger, keeping the knife at Stiles’ neck, and her other arm securely around his chest. “They’re animals and sooner or later, they turn on you!”

Taking a breath, Chris lowers his gun and then he fires, hitting her just above her knee.

“Chris!” she yells and stumbles and in that time, Stiles is able to get away and runs to his father.

Noah pulls him against his chest with one arm, keeping his gun pointed at Kate. “Roll over on your stomach and keep your arms at your side.”

Before Noah can put his son safely in the squad car, before Bobby can decide if he should stop him, Peter rushes out and grabs Kate. He puts his claws to her throat. “ _"Apologize._ Say that you're sorry for decimating my family. For leaving me burned and broken for  _six_  years.  _Say it_. Say it and maybe I’ll let your family live, even though you killed all of mine.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking at Chris, at her brother. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for this.”

Peter snarls and pulls his claws deeply through her neck and lets her crumble to the ground, already dead. “You know, I don’t think she was sorry about what she did to us, not at all.”

The other two squad cars arrive and when the deputies get out, everyone’s standing around, breathing heavy, staring at each other and looking at Peter, who’s back to being human. A human with his arm covered in blood and a dead woman at his feet.

“She was threatening the sheriff and was holding Stiles hostage with a knife,” Chris says. He wraps Allison in his arms, turning her so she’s not looking at her aunt’s body.

Bobby watches the deputy, Tara, as she looks at the Sheriff. He doesn’t say anything, just checks on Stiles, looking at his neck. There’s a couple of scrapes and he’ll certainly have bruises, but he’s not bleeding.

Chris steps forward and moves to Kate, wrapping her hand around a gun that’s he’s pulled from under his jacket. “She had a gun and a knife, Sheriff.”

Tara looks at Peter, who’s is calmly wiping his hands off with a handkerchief. Bobby feels his chest relax and there’s a familiar feeling of pack. Thankfully a calmer pack, Peter’s rage feels muted. Not gone, but not stifling as it was before.

Looking at Bobby and then Derek, watching him shift back, she shakes her head, sighing. “I knew it.”

Bobby nods and says, “Fucking Beacon Hills.”

“I need to fire this,” Chris says, sounding apologetic. “She should have gunshot residue on her hands.”

He waits until the sheriff pushes Stiles against the car, making sure to cover him. The gun isn’t pointed near them, but after this, Bobby’s pretty sure the sheriff is going to keep a closer eye on his kid.  

Chris fires the gun in her hand and steps back.  “I’m sorry Kate. I’m sorry Gerard did this to you.” Then he fires his gun, shooting through her throat covering up the claw marks. “I was the one who shot her; I shot her in the throat.”

Peter smirks as he says, “Thank you, Christopher.”

“Shut up, Hale. I didn’t do this for you.” Chris snarls, going back to his daughter.

Noah turns to his deputies and says, “She took Stiles, left the stadium and came here. She had him by the neck, threatening him and us with a gun. Chris shot her in the knee to make her let go of Stiles. She turned and fired at him and he shot her in self-defense.” He rests his forehead on Stiles’ head, and Bobby can smell his relief and fear and guilt. This town is full of guilt. “I know this is hard and I won’t blame you if you say you can’t, but …”

“Of course, Sheriff. It’s exactly what I saw,” Tara says and looks at the other deputy who says, “I’d only be telling the truth.”

Through it all, this is why Bobby stays here. It’s a crazy place, but loyalties run deep.

“So seriously, what happened to your car?” Stiles asks, brushing a tear off his face as he pushes his way out of the car. His legs are still shaky, but his voice is steady.

“Low overpass. Real, real low overpass,” Bobby says, yawning. “What’s next, because adrenaline crash. And I need to see who won the game. Oh, and if I still have a job.”

“Of course you still have a job, you helped save the Sheriff’s son,” Derek says and Peter nods agreement. He still looks way too happy as he walks around the bloody body on the ground. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

They walk away slowly, back into the preserve, leaving the cleaning up to the humans. “I made a good decision, I’m glad I chose you,” Peter says, walking just slightly ahead of his two betas.

“Chose me?” Bobby snorts. “You _made_ a decision? You were a crazy monster running around in the woods; I don’t know that you were making a lot of decisions.”

Peter glances over his shoulder and says, “I coulda just killed you. I decided not to. Even after you kicked me in the face.”

Derek stops and stares at Bobby’s back. “You – you kicked… you kicked a werewolf in the face? An alpha werewolf in the face?”

“I told you, I have anger issues of my own,” Bobby answers, waiting for Derek to start walking with him again.

“Wow. I have to say, Bobby, you have ball.”

Peter turns, raising an eyebrow while Bobby barks out a laugh.


	9. Bobby's Future in the Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some quiet time to discuss their pack, Bobby and Derek's roles, possible additions and bits of history.

It’s amazing how they can relax again in Bobby’s living room, drinking beer and eating tortilla chips and guacamole, just like regular people. Peter rolled his eyes at first, but Bobby notices he’s eaten his share and maybe a little more. But he doesn’t begrudge him, after all, the guy ate liquid whatever from a tube for six years.

Bobby studies the label on his beer. It has a pretty high alcohol content, but of course, no buzz. Good thing it tastes really good, because being a werewolf does not mean you piss less. “You know, this town is like that one in Stephen King novels, where everyone knows there’s something wrong, but unless it directly affects you, you just ignore it? Like that.”

“Which town, isn’t there more than one?” Derek asks, grinning. “But yeah, that’s kinda how I always felt growing up. We were hiding, but it felt like there were always people who knew. Or knew something.”

“Well there certainly are people who know now. Which gives us a good opportunity,” Peter says, using his chip to dig up a large chunk of avocado, greedy bastard. “We do need to expand our pack. We need at least three betas for a strong pack.”

“How many is ideal?” Bobby asks, looking at his pack. Derek’s on the floor, back against the couch to be closer to the chips on the coffee table. Peter’s in what Bobby now thinks of as his chair, Peter’s favorite since they’ve settled into his house. Which should be weird, but it’s not. With his brother five years older, he’s never been close to his family, and maybe Derek’s right; these are his brothers now. Creepy, broody, homicidal brothers, but still.

“Depends on the pack. Some have over 50 members, but that’s pretty rare and in very remote locations, where there’s room to spread out. We usually had about a dozen, more or less,” Peter says, and gets that faraway look in his eyes that Bobby hates and worries about. “People marry and leave for another pack. Babies are born or people marry and their spouse joins the pack.” He focuses on Bobby again, and looks like he’s back in the present, at least for now. “I think I’d like to start small while we all get our feet under us again. Maybe another two betas. Three more at the most.”

“Well, there’s the sheriff to start. He didn’t seem freaked out and he certainly knows,” Bobby says, finishing his beer. “Reasonable and strong guy under pressure.”

Peter thinks a moment and says, “He’s a single parent, right? So if the bite doesn’t take and he dies, Stiles would be without a parent. I don’t like that, it’s not worth the risk.”

“What do you mean if the bite doesn’t take and he dies? Why would he die?” Bobby asks, grabbing the bag of chips from him.

“There’s a chance of bite rejection. It’s very painful and the person dies slowly. Younger people usually do better with the bite, that’s a consideration, too.” Peter says, taking back the bag and pouring some on the coffee table in front of him, which isn’t pretty, but it works.  

Bobby waves his hands in front of Peter and says, “Wait, wait, wait – so I could have died? I’m an older guy and you bit me and I could have fucking died? Slowly and painfully, my two least favorite ways to die?”

Peter shrugs and grabs some of the chips and the bowl of dip. “You could have, but you didn’t. And remember the not being in my right mind thing? You’re fine, stop bitching.”

Bobby sighs and really that’s true. “Okay, so… younger. How about that deputy, Tara? She seemed down with it.”

“Maybe. Definitely maybe. Who else?” Peter asks, looking directly at Bobby.

“Umm,” Bobby looks at Derek and says, “jump in whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t really know the people around here anymore. I mean, I know the Argents and…”

“No. The bite is a gift and I won’t offer it to them at all. Besides, they’d likely do their hunter thing and kill themselves.” Peter answers, sneering and eating a chip angrily. You can eat chips angrily.

“Kill themselves?”

“Yeah. If they’re bitten, rather than being a wolf, the hunter’s code – when they follow it – is that they kill themselves if they’re going to turn,” Derek says, rolling his eyes. “Because you know, this is a fate worse than death.”

“Nut jobs,” Bobby answers. “Death is a fate worse than death. Okay who else? You want me to suggest more people?” he asks Peter.

“Yes, please. I’d like to listen to your ideas. As you know, Derek and I have been out of the loop around here for a while and I trust your judgement as my second.”

Bobby isn’t sure exactly what that means in werewolf, but it must mean something since Derek’s face goes blank and his heart beat jumps. Thanks, Peter.

“Derek, I think this is right, at least for now. I have other ideas for you, and please don’t think you’re not valuable. You’re family and you – my pack is my anchor. I’ll need you to teach our new pack about being a pack, and you know that from your mother. I’m… well, I’m probably not the best person for that. I’ll teach Bobby what he needs to know, but I need your help for all of our pack,” Peter says, and reaches over Bobby to pat Derek’s shoulder.

Derek relaxes a bit, taking a breath and nodding. “Yeah. Yes, I can do that.”

“Thank you, Derek. And as you get to know people here, or reconnect with ones you knew before, if you find someone who you think might be a good addition to the pack, I’m sure you’ll tell us.” He turns back to Bobby and says, “So, Robert. Who else are you thinking of?”

Clearly more talk about the second thing needs to follow, but that’s later. “How about Melissa McCall? I’m not sure you’ve met her, she’s Scott McCall – Stiles’ friend? – his mother. She’s younger than the sheriff, I think, but older than Tara. She’s an ER nurse and pretty damn smart.”

“Hmm. I’ll think on it. It might be good having someone with medical training; eventually we may have humans in our pack. I remember some of the doctors at the hospital, I’ll think about them. Good idea.”

“Thanks. And frankly, I’d like to add a woman to the pack, add a little estrogen to the mix. No offense, I don’t know what you two, you know, like…”

Derek looks down and Peter raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Actually born wolves tend to be bisexual. I’ve been told it’s because we don’t have that same born urge to mate and breed, since we can increase our packs through the bite. But I certainly don’t object to including women in the pack. I think it’s a very good idea; balance is important.”

“Okay. I’m starting to not be surprised by anything. But what’s the plan to determine who’s good? Is there an application or do we collect resumes? What if they do wig out? You do the big werewolf reveal and Melissa grabs a cleaver and tries to cure you by cutting your head off? Is there a plan, I hope?”

“We always have a plan,” Peter says and pops his claws out. “A very effective one.”

Bobby blanches and whispers, “You kill them? Jesus Christ, Peter, you don’t make me want to suggest anyone I like!”

“We don’t kill them,” Peter says, sighing, and retracting his claws. “There’s something an alpha can do; it’s not pleasant for either of us, but we can erase a person’s memory.” Bobby gives him a skeptical look and Peter says, “We actually go into someone’s mind and take the memories. Like I said, it’s not fun.”

“Okay, that sounds horrible. Let’s try to pick people who won’t need that.” Bobby thinks about other potential women for the pack and shrugs, because who they sleep with really doesn’t concern him at all. “Alright, there’s a counselor at school, Marin Morrell. I haven’t talked with her a lot, but the kids seem to like her and kids can usually tell bullshit. I can chat her up a bit.”

“No, that won’t work, she’s an emissary – a druid.” Peter says, leaning back in his chair now that the guacamole is gone.

“What’s that?” Bobby asks, shoving the bag of chips over to Derek who seems quite content to eat them without guacamole or salsa or anything. Of course the guy was living in a burnt out house, so no surprise.

“An emissary is a person with magic who works with a pack. They’re… a go-between from our world to the human’s world. Marin is one, as is Alan Deaton,” Peter explains.

“Alan Deaton? The veterinarian? But he’s a veterinarian!” Bobby sputters, waving his hands in the air.

“He’s both apparently. Don’t worry about it, it works.” Peter looks at Derek and smiles. This might be the first time Derek looks truly relaxed since Peter came back. “Derek, do you think you could go talk with Deaton and see if he’d be willing to be our pack’s emissary again? Hopefully he’ll have some warm feelings for Hales, based on his crush on Talia.”

“Crush on… he had a crush on Mom?” Derek asks, and Bobby tries not to laugh at how his nose wrinkles like a little kid.

Peter must think it’s funny, too, as he raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Yes, I’m afraid so. I think he thought it was hidden, but you know, scents and hearts don’t lie.”

“And I have to talk with him?”

“I’d appreciate it, Derek. And thank you, I know it can be uncomfortable, so thank you,” Peter says, again brushing a hand over his shoulder. “When we’re a little further along, I’ll reach out to some of our former allies and let them know the Hale territory is again under our care.”

Bobby is surprised that he feels something – jealous? And somehow Peter must know, as he reaches over and clasps Bobby’s shoulder, which makes him immediately settle. It’s weird the way the alpha affects him, almost weirder than the fangs and claws and lack of eyebrows.

“Speaking of, I think young Stiles is interesting,” Peter says, ever so casually.

“Nope, no, hold on,” Bobby says, sitting forward, shaking his head. “I don’t want to disagree, oh mighty alpha, but come on, the kid’s what? 15? 16? Define interesting.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, exactly the same as Derek, which apparently is some type of Hale thing. “Thank you for thinking the worst of me, but I can assure you, it’s not like that.” He glances at Derek and says, “I find the idea of approaching anyone without explicit consent – actual, legal and thought-out consent – to be repellent. I’m many horrible things, Robert, but an ephebophile isn’t one of them. I’m interested in Stiles for what he might be. According to _my_ mother, the boy’s mother, Claudia, had magic -- strong magic. Which she suppressed when she decided to marry her husband and live a _normal_ life. She probably didn’t even realize she was drawn here. The boy has something and I’m interested in what that might be.” He turns to Derek and says, “Perhaps you can find a way to ask Deaton if he’s noticed anything. And if he might be convinced to help teach Stiles. If possible, eventually I’d like to have him as our emissary. Even knowing as little about him as I do, I trust him more than Deaton.”

Derek nods, considering what Peter’s said. “I’ll talk with Deaton. Stiles…I could see potential, I remember Mom talking about Claudia, too. If we can keep him from running towards danger.”

Peter nods, and bites his lips together for a second, like he’s pulling up a memory. “We’ll also want to look out for a girl. Linda Martin? Lisa Martin? Something like that.”

“Lydia Martin?” Bobby calls over his shoulder as he goes to the fridge for more beer and grabs a bag of Fritos. “We should order real food. What about her? Why do you know her?”

“I don’t know her personally, I just remember something about her grandmother, Lorraine Martin, having a grandchild.” Peter accepts the beer with a small smile as Bobby settles back down on the couch. “Lorraine was a banshee and that’s something else that can run in a family.”

“A banshee? Are you kid… Of course not. Oh, hell. Let’s see, Lydia Martin. Wicked smart. Maybe genius smart if she can get her head out of her ass and stop acting like a dumb little girl so she doesn’t intimidate the boys.”

“Do boys like that?” Peter looks from Derek to Bobby.

“Some do, apparently,” Bobby answers. “Some teenage boys.”

Derek shrugs and snorts. “Seems stupid. I mean, if you want to have a conversation with someone. I remember your college girlfriend, Peter. Trish? She was smarter than you.”

“Yes, she was something, and definitely smarter than me. Probably good I didn’t marry her, or she’d be dead.” Peter huffs out a breath and says, “We’ll keep an eye on Lydia, see what develops.”

“Werewolves and banshees.” Bobby shakes his head and slumps enough to put his feet on the coffee table. “Told you, it’s like Derry. Werewolves and banshees? All your neighbors disappear overnight? Vampire on the front porch? Hey, no big deal.”

“Salem’s Lot,” Derek replies, grinning. “One or the other. And hopefully no one disappears.”

“Are there vampires? Are those real?” Bobby asks and he’s sure his scent goes off, even though Derek and Peter both smirk.

“They were, I think they’re mostly wiped out. Or they stay out of the states; there may be some in eastern Europe, I think. We don’t really keep up with them,” Peter says, back to his serious lecture-face.

“Well that’s good to know. So I’m probably just selfish, but I wouldn’t mind some extra werewolf power on the lacrosse team,” Bobby says, scratching his already unruly hair. “I mean, I kept my job after running out during a game – kidnapped player was a good excuse, I gotta remember that – but I could use a stronger team. Maybe giving Jackson the bite? He’s a bit of a dick, but…”

“He’s the captain, the snotty Aryan god, isn’t he?” Peter asks, brow wrinkled in thought. “He’s already your captain and star player, what more do you want from him? Maybe someone who has potential, but isn’t there yet? And hopefully not a dick.”

Bobby sits quietly for a minute, wondering if he should even talk about this or if he’ll be shut down. But these two have listened to him, more than his birth family ever has. “There’s a kid on the team, Isaac Lahey. He’s … he’s okay as a player, sometimes has skill and sometimes he just runs on anger.” Bobby pauses for a minute and he’s glad the others let him gather his thoughts without interrupting or pushing. “There’s something with his family, with his father. He’s come in sometimes and he’s bruised or…it’s obvious he hasn’t been sleeping. He doesn’t want to be touched, not even a hand on his shoulder. I know his father’s a mess since his wife died, but …”

Derek sits up, and leans forward in his chair. “Have you told anyone? Reported it?”

“Yeah, of course!” Bobby says, and then he takes a breath; Derek doesn’t know the history, he doesn’t know _him_ , no matter what he thinks. For all he talks, Bobby really does care about the little shits as they pass through his classes. “I called CPS twice. Two times. And they came out and investigated and because Isaac wouldn’t say anything about his dad, they couldn’t do anything, they said. Never mind that he was probably scared as shit, but that’s what they said. They’ll check up, blah blah blah.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It seemed to be better, you know? For a few days, Isaac didn’t look so beaten up or beaten down. There were a few days each time when it seemed like something had changed, but then - back to Isaac-normal.”

Peter takes a moment to study him and says, “And beyond that, you think he’d be good for the pack? Not just because he _needs_ one, but what can he offer to us?” When Bobby looks over at him, Peter says, “I’m sorry, but it’s a fact. This isn’t necessarily an easy life – you’ve seen hunters. The Hales have been here for generations and it’s normally quiet, but when it’s not, it’s not. We’re not offering a lifetime of love and joy. Or a home for wayward youths.”

“I don’t know. I think… I think he’d be dedicated to us; I think he’s looking for someone to follow. And I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t shy away from violence if needed.” Bobby shrugs and says, “But I still don’t know what the qualifications are for being a werewolf. Do you have a minimum requirement, or do you just bite people who aren’t smart enough to stay home at night?”

Peter smiles, showing a mouthful of teeth. “It’s a gut instinct, Bobby. There’s something with the look and the scent. All those pheromones in the air, saying who you are and what you want. Saying who you can be. Can you tell me you hate your life now?”

Bobby thinks about it for only a second before he says, “I don’t hate my life, but I didn’t hate my old life either. This is… well this week has been trial by fire.”

“It has been,” Peter agrees, eyes bright red. “It’s not usually like this, and while I can’t say it’ll be peaceful, I can promise you won’t be bored.”


	10. Bobby plays Chauffeur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack talks about rebuilding and visit the old Hale house.

Apparently Peter isn’t wasting any time now that he’s alive again. He has six years to make up, and since the first chore (justice for everyone involved in the fire) is complete, he’s ready to move on to life. Bobby’s been coming home to papers on his dining room table and Peter on a new laptop, working to create, or have someone create, a new driver’s license, passport and other items. Apparently, he had surgery in Europe somewhere that did miracles for his burn scars. In Beacon Hills people’ll believe whatever is easiest.

“Derek, I think we should rebuild the pack house,” Peter announces one morning as they’re at the table eating breakfast, before Bobby goes to work.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline and Bobby tries not to snicker. Derek’s never the most verbal person and especially not in the morning and this really is the best Peter should expect for a conversation. Which, now that he thinks about it, might have been Peter’s intention.

“Not where the house was of course,” Peter assures him, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. Bobby hates when anyone does that and he must flash something because Peter looks at him and smirks. “Maybe closer to the lake. There’s some good flat land there, and it’s sunny; I think I’d like that, out of the woods a bit, and into the sun.”

“How big was the old house?” Bobby asks. Of course he knew of it, everyone in Beacon Hills knew about the giant house in the woods, even if they’d never seen it. The house was an ever changing legend, the way unusual things become in small towns. Some said it was a mansion, with an elevator and a garage filled with expensive cars. Some people thought dozens of people lived there and others said it was just a few, some weird type of Miss Havisham situation. Or rumors they’re monsters – serial killers or vampires seemed to be the most popular, but Bobby certainly wasn’t the only one thinking werewolves. Coyotes don’t howl like that.

“It had ten bedrooms, plus an office for Talia. There was a library as well. I’m thinking smaller, maybe five or six bedrooms, and a combined office and library.” Peter looks to Derek as if he expects his beta to speak. “What do you think?”

“Not the same spot,” he mutters, and shoves a sausage patty into his mouth, which Bobby knows is an avoidance technique. He’d feel sorry for the guy, but he’s going to have to learn to act a little more adult and a little less rebel without a pause.

“No. Of course not. I’m not sure what to do with the house, other than take it down. I’m sure it’s dangerous to be in it, and knowing our lovely little town, I’m sure there’s been a few people going through it.” Peter’s nose barely wrinkles with distaste, but his scent tells the story of how much, understandably, that upsets him.

“Take it down, fill in the basement and maybe plant something on it? Trees or something?” Derek suggests.

“That might be good, like a memorial park. We can plant things that each family member liked. A Japanese red maple for Talia for example,” Peter says. Bobby watches him touch Derek’s arm quickly, just because they both need it and he thinks it’s a little more than even a few days ago. Maybe they’re starting to forgive each other.

Peter takes a deep breath and says, “I’d like to go there, just for a bit. I haven’t been there, inside or outside since… well, it’s not like we haven’t been busy.” His smile includes Bobby and he reaches over and runs his hand down Bobby’s arm and there’s something inside him that settles as well. Fucking werewolves, better than Zoloft.

 

Bobby isn’t sure exactly what they do during the day; he has noticed his house is a little cleaner and picked up.  Someone has gone grocery shopping and now he leaves a list on the fridge if there’s something they need. Derek usually eats healthy foods and Peter, well he eats everything. Bobby isn’t sure if it’s the alpha thing or the healing thing or the food tube thing for six years, but whatever. He’s eating good, too, so win-win all around.

He gets home one night with no real plans, maybe just eat dinner and have a beer and see if there’s a game on. Even though beer now is, eh, it’s a habit and tastes good. And his metabolism is up, so more beer for Bobby.

Peter and Derek both stand when he gets into the living room, so obviously those plans are out. “Problem? Hunters?” he asks, trying to be subtle when he sniffs for a mood. It’s anxious and depressed and feels blue-gray.

“No, nothing like that. We’re just…” Peter looks over to Derek who nods quickly. “We’d like to go to the house today. Not for long, we just…”

“You need to,” Bobby finishes for him. “Do you want to borrow my car or what can I do?” They look at each other, not saying anything, but Bobby knows what it is. They need someone to drive them, they don’t trust themselves to do it. And they shouldn’t have to do this alone. “Hey, how about I drive? There’s more room in my car than Derek’s.”

“Do you mind?” Peter asks, and he looks more tired than Bobby’s seen him.

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown, Bobby thinks. Peter went from being a beta in a full pack, to having his house and family burnt in front of him, then being in a coma for six years and now he’s back as an alpha, responsible for their developing pack. It must feel like the fire was only weeks ago. “Let me change clothes and then I’m ready when you are.” He makes certain to brush his hand on both men’s arms as he passes. It’s a pack thing and he smiles to himself when he feels the stress go down a notch.

 

Peter makes it a habit to make fun of Barbie, which would be annoying if it weren’t for the fact he’s mostly right. It is time for Malibu Barbie to retire.  

“You could buy me a new car,” Bobby suggests, glancing over his shoulder at Derek, crammed in the rear seat.

“I could give you a loan.”

“Or you could buy me a new car.”

“Oh, Robert, I wouldn’t want to insult you like that, to take away your dignity.” Peter says with one of his kind of scary smiles. “But I’ll loan you money to get a new car. I won’t even charge you interest.”

“Yeah, well my dignity is already pretty much shot to hell, but I’ll take the loan, thanks,” he says and turns, pulling onto the road leading to the house. It’s still overgrown, but he can see the tracks all the cars left the other day, grooves from cars racing in and crawling out. When he parks on the bare ground in front of the house, the three men get out of the car, Peter uncharacteristically slowest of all.

“I didn’t look at it the other day. You could say I was a bit preoccupied.” They stand back and look at the burnt out porch and broken windows. The chimney still stands and Bobby knows the back of the house is just gone. The front door stands open, hanging askew from only the top hinge. The door knob is gone, taken by either scavengers looking to make money or souvenir seekers. Kids being brave, picking remnants from the local haunted house.

“Laura hired someone to go in and see what they could find. Apparently, that’s a profession. Stuff’s in the vault, we can go sometime,” Derek says, looking to his alpha. “Do you want to go in?” 

“Yeah, we’re going to go through what’s in that vault sometime, make sure things are secure. You guys go and I’ll stay out here, unless you need me for something.” Bobby leans against the car, not sure what happens next. Thankfully, he doesn’t have a lot of experience with looking at the remains of his family’s lives.

Peter goes up the porch stairs, followed by Derek who taps his fingers on the scorched post as they pass it.

“It’s… it’s not what I expected,” he hears Peter say from inside what was probably the main living room. “I’m not sure exactly what I did expect, but …there’s still things here.”

“We got any books or pictures that hadn’t burned or been damaged. A few things from the kitchen,” Derek says. “There wasn’t much. Things that weren’t burned, ended up smoke or water damaged.”

“Hmm,” is all Peter says. There’s a minute of quiet and then he says, “Talia and David’s loveseat was here. You knew they were arguing if one was sitting in another chair.”

“I don’t remember them fighting, I don’t think.”

“Oh, it never was much, the usual things I guess. Not taking out the trash, using the last of the milk. Or your mother being too lenient with any of you,” Peter answers, chuckling. “Cora always used to be in the window seat over here.”

Derek chuckles a bit, too. “Yeah. She’d have a book and curl up in the sun for hours, like a cat.”

“My mother,” Peter says and then takes a deep breath. “My mother always had the chair by the fireplace, remember? She’d growl if anyone thought they could take it.”

“Except Daniel. Daniel was able…” Derek says and his voice breaks.

Bobby’s not certain he should be here, but they know he is and they know he can hear their conversation. Maybe he should be here, as a witness. He’s already stepped away from the house to try to give them some privacy. And this weekend, he’s calling his mother.

“Daniel was the youngest and her favorite grandchild. Like I was her favorite child. Talia was Dad’s favorite. And you were Talia’s favorite,” Peter’s voice is quiet and Bobby feels his pain, like pressure on his chest. “Derek, I tried, you have to know I tried as hard as I could, but…”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“This is _not_ your fault, it never was.” Peter’s voice is stern and he hisses, “It was _her_ fault and _her_ fault only, Derek. You are _not_ to blame. You were never to blame.”

It’s another few minutes before they come out of the house, both their eyes red.

“So…what now?” Bobby asks, as Peter turns back to the house. “After all this time, there’s probably nothing else salvageable.”

“No. No, it’s done and over and it should be taken down,” Peter answers. He goes back to the porch and pushes on the door until it shuts.

Derek smells of confusion and worry and Peter’s scent goes from sad to angry in a heartbeat.

“What’s that? Does that mean something?” Painted on the front door in what looks like fresh, black paint is a symbol. It looks a little like the tattoo on Derek’s back, but it’s sharp and reminds Bobby of a swastika. And that can’t be good.

“That is the symbol of the alpha pack, issuing a challenge for our territory, for the Hale pack territory. They’re exactly what it sounds like, Bobby.” Peter turns and his grin is one that makes Bobby’s stomach clench. “Gentlemen, we’re about to have company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha ha ha, I'm evil! I don't know if I'll continue, I like this verse, but I really don't know what to do with a season 2. 
> 
> But thanks to all who have read and commented, this is more popular than I expected it to be.


End file.
